Voices of Treachery
by LadyRainbow
Summary: Hoshi becomes a pawn in a power struggle among conflicting forces. Malcolm has to protect her, not only from those forces, but also from herself. Please R&R. Thanks.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't make money off 'em.**

**Notes: Another story focusing on two of my favorite characters, Hoshi and Malcolm. Hoshi's linguistic skills are needed to unravel a conspiracy, but there are others who want to possess those skills for their own goals. [In other words, Hoshi and Malcolm get put through the wringer. Again. LOL.]**

**Ensign Bernhard Mueller belongs to Volley. :) Crewman Trieste and Ensign Birkenwald are my OCs. [From "Boomer Bust" and "Five Weddings and a Funeral for my Sanity".]**

**Please R&R. Thanks.**

**Rating: T**

* * *

**One**

As soon as they'd received the distress call, _Enterprise _had swung into full rescue assistance mode. Malcolm Reed always marveled at how the crew moved smoothly into their assigned roles. Doctor Phlox and Crewman Cutler recruited volunteers to help set up triage areas in the cargo holds. Ensign Mayweather pushed the warp engines to their limit to shave hours off their arrival time. Commander Tucker outfitted all the available shuttlepods to carry as many refugees as possible.

Malcolm kept a vigilant eye on the sensors, just in case the ones who attacked Trianara Four returned to finish the job. Yet his gaze kept straying across the Bridge to Ensign Hoshi Sato. The communications officer's musical voice echoed in the tense silence of the Bridge, a calm anchor of normalcy in an emergency situation.

"_I'chala hasterti ki'evaratu_ ," she said. "_Ee'lai bharti na p'truiash kr'aiova." _Hoshi listened to the reply, then nodded. She glanced over at Captain Archer and said in English, "Captain, the Trianarans have gathered all of their most serious injuries in their university hospital. Doctor Va'nai asks us to tell Phlox that they're setting up multiple trauma stations."

Archer nodded at her from the center seat. "Acknowledged, Ensign. Any word from the Kikuron Rescue Group on their ETA to Trinara? I thought they'd said they'd get there before us."

Another flashing light on her console attracted her attention. "I think they're sending us a communique right now, Captain. Give me a moment."

Archer nodded again, then a corner of his mouth went up in grim humor. "The KRG always had good timing."

Travis, at the helm, made a sound of agreement. "They always have, Captain. It's always amazed me how their rescue teams get to the scene before anyone else."

Hoshi pressed the earpiece into her ear and this time, her replies took on a different kind of music. "_Sh'rru bi orka-uiappt, typrltu ksahai no..."_ All conversation ceased as she switched dialects and languages with ease, from the gentle rhythms of Trianaran to the more strident, gutteral tones of Kikuron.

Malcolm privately marveled at her remarkable talent for languages, how she could stop in mid-sentence in one, then flow smoothly into another. He noticed how her expressions changed as she did so. Now her brows were knitted together, her eyes narrowed, her lips pressed together in intense urgency. Hoshi's entire posture stiffened like a cadet on a review march, shoulders squared, back straight. Malcolm mused whether or not she was aware of how her body language had changed.

_She is like a chameleon,_ he thought. _Showing many faces to the world, but reserving her true face to a select few. _The thought brought a dry smile. _That certainly sounds most familiar, doesn't it?_ Malcolm quickly stifled the smile as she turned back to address Archer again.

"Their ETA is forty minutes Captain. They're sending three medical frigates and five support ships."

Malcolm raised his eyebrows and commented, "They're not sparing any reserves for this mission."

Travis glanced at him and shrugged. "Better to have too many medical resources than too few, Lieutenant."

"True," Malcolm admitted.

Trip Tucker's voice interrupted them on the comm. "Tucker to the Cap'n."

Archer hit a button on his chair. "Go ahead."

"Cap'n, we've got Shuttlepods One, Two, Three, and Five all prepped and ready to go. Phlox is checking over the medical supplies now. If you could spare Travis, I'd like him to pilot one of the shuttles."

Travis looked over at Archer at the sound of his name, and the captain nodded at him. "I'll send Travis down as soon as we get into orbit, Trip."

"Thanks, Cap'n. Travis, is there anyone else you want to pilot the other shuttles?"

Travis thought for a moment. "Crewman Trieste, for sure. Lieutenants Bailey and Foster, and probably Crewman Saldoti as well."

"Thanks, Travis. Send 'em down when you're ready. Tucker, out."

Archer nodded at Travis and a bright smile came over the Ensign's face. Malcolm couldn't help but smile as well; the captain had just indicated that he trusted Travis's recommendations. It would surely boost Travis's confidence in himself and his decisions.

He looked over at Hoshi, who wore a proud smile herself. The happy glow in her eyes reflected Travis's own. That glow lit up her entire face, and Malcolm silently thanked the captain for boosting their morale, even in the middle of a tragedy.

Archer turned to Hoshi. "Wake up Crewman Trieste and the others and notify them they're on standby for shuttlepod dury."

"Aye, sir." She turned to do so with cool efficiency; Malcolm listened at the professional tone as she called Trieste and the others. Again, the nuances in her voice changed according to the situation. Again, Malcolm thought the comparison to a chameleon was remarkably apt.

The captain's order broke into his musings. "Lieutenant, I want you to organize security teams for our medical personnel. We don't know who attacked the Trianarans and I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"Aye, sir," he replied. He nodded at Archer with approval; in the past four years, Archer had become less cavalier about security protocols, and Malcolm thanked whatever Deity that had made him see sense. Granted, the captain still tended to go into some situations with his usual impulsiveness, but at least he'd gotten better at consulting with Malcolm about it.

Malcolm paged Ensign Bernhard Mueller, his second-in-command to have the security teams meet in the shuttlebay. Then he nodded at his relief officer to take his place at the Tactical station. Before he left he Bridge, he caught Hoshi's smile of encouragement. Despite the smile, he saw the worry in her eyes, and he felt a corner of his mouth turn up in reassurance.

_Be careful, Malcolm,_ she mouthed silently.

He gave her a slight nod._ I will, love,_ he mouthed back. Her smile was the last thing he saw before the lift doors hissed closed.

* * *

"It came out of the middle of nowhere, Lieutenant. We weren't expecting to be attacked in the middle of the luncheon hour." Marshal Kyran Subronn shook his head as he struggled to coax information from the planet's shattered defense computers. "Whoever did this knew exactly how to disable our defensive shield and knew where to shoot."

Malcolm nodded grimly. "Which means someone sent that information to your attackers."

Subronn huffed angrily. "My security forces are loyal, Lieutenant. They would never do such a thing."

"Perhaps so, but it still means someone compromised your planetary security."

Before Subronn came up with another retort, a calm voice interrupted, "I believe I may be able to provide a partial answer to that question, gentlemen."

Malcolm hid his relief as he turned toward the main computer terminal. "Commander T'Pol?"

The Vulcan pushed buttons and an image came up on the screen. A few areas were missing, but the majority of the information was still intact. T'Pol gracefully got up from her seat and came up to Malcolm and Subronn, placing her hands behind her back. "It appears that the individual shielding around your karecite mines went off-line several minutes before the first concentrated attack, Marshal. Here, here, and here."

Subronn's mouth dropped open in utter shock. "That-that is impossible! Only a handful of people know the shielding codes for the mines, and they are all loyal to me---"

"You're sure about that?' Malcolm asked him darkly. "It appears that your security codes have become general knowledge, Marshal Subronn."

The Trianarian's knees buckled under him, and only Malcolm's reflexes saved him from a spill onto the floor. T'Pol immediately called for a medical team, as Malcolm helped Subronn to a chair. Subronn gave him a weak smile.

"Forgive me, Lieutenant, but this is quite a shock to my system. I've trained most of my security forces myself, and the thought of one of them betraying me like this..." Subronn shook his head, "...is most distressing."

"Understandable," Malcolm said, with a hint of sympathy. He tried to imagine if Mueller or Birkenwald or any other member of his Armory team giving classified information to the enemy and shivered. After the shock, he'd be angry as hell, and Subronn appeared to be quickly getting there.

"The karacite mines are your livelihood, are they not?" T'Pol asked Subronn. "They provide most of the income for your planet's trade."

"Yes," Subronn answered hoarsely. "The karacite is used for a number of purposes. Energy generation, medicines, communication relay systems...it is valuable to us."

"Apparently, it's become a valuable commodity to others as well," T'Pol said. "Will it be possible to access the operation reports from the mines?"

Subronn nodded. "Of course. I will provide any information you require." He glanced apologetically at her and Malcolm. "Although they will be encrypted, and then the original files will be written in the mining caste's dialect. The official reports will be in the formal language, but---" The marshal smiled grimly, "---I doubt any incriminating evidence will be in those official reports."

Malcolm looked over at T'Pol. "Ensign Sato could translate those original reports, Commander."

Subronn gave him a skeptical glance. "Your communications officer? I believe she only knows the administration caste's dialect. The mining caste uses a tradespeak that bears only a hint of similarity."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "Ensign Sato is qualified to do such translation, Marshal. Her expertise could provide us with valuable clues in the identities of the saboteurs."

"Indeed. I have confidence in her abilities to help us, Marshal."

Subronn opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it. "Very well. If she is willing to assist us, I am grateful for it."

T'Pol gave Malcolm a significant look. "Inform Captain Archer that we are in need of Ensign Sato's skill set, and ask whether or not she can be spared for this investigation."

"Of course, Commander." He inclined his head to Subronn. "Excuse me, Marshal."

"Lieutenant." As Malcolm turned to make the call to Enterprise, he heard Subronn ask T'Pol, "Is this officer truly as skilled as you say?"

He couldn't help a proud smile as T'Pol replied, "Very much so, Marshal. Very much so."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't make money off 'em.**

**Notes: Another story focusing on two of my favorite characters, Hoshi and Malcolm. Hoshi's linguistic skills are needed to unravel a conspiracy, but there are others who want to possess those skills for their own goals. [In other words, Hoshi and Malcolm get put through the wringer. Again. LOL.]**

**Thanks to all those who have read and put this story on alert. :) I'd also love to hear what you think, what works and what doesn't, so please take a few moments to leave a review! It really helps! **

**Rating: T

* * *

**

**Two**

Hoshi Sato knelt in the dust and dirt of a farmer's field, one hand on her UT and the other hand upon a woman's forehead. Frantic blue-green eyes looked up at her, her lips trembling as they tried to form words as quickly as possible. Hoshi caught every movement of her lips with the UT, every breathy sound that floated past its tiny speaker. Phlox knelt on the other side of the woman with a sorrowful expression, his scanner relaying the unavoidable truth.

"_Meh' rui la de ke sairti, Da'rhina,_ " the woman whispered. "_Je, je, nia lahrti ve de la naita. " _Her eyes widened abruptly. "_Ne, ne, dellru dji'pati. Dellru dji'pati..._" Finally, the weak voice lapsed into silence and Phlox's scaner emitted a steady whine.

"I'm sorry, Ensign. She's gone." The Denobulan turned off his scanner with a shake of his head, then reached over and closed the woman's eyes. "Did you understand any of that?"

Hoshi sighed and shook her head. "Not much, I'm afraid. Each level of Trianaran society has their own dialect, their own tradespeak, depending on their station in life. She was the wife of a farmer and not a government official. One thing was sure, though...she was angry with her Gods at the end."

"Angry?" Phlox asked in a surprised tone.

"She said, _dellru dji'pati_."

"Which means?"

Despite herself, Hoshi chuckled. "It means, 'I'm not ready yet'. She wasn't ready to go."

He shook his head with a rueful smile. "Death comes for us all, whether or not we feel we are ready, but as long as there is will, there is hope." At her weak smile, he added, "A Denobulan saying. Come, Ensign, there are too many people who need our assistance."

Hour after hour crept by as Phlox and his teams struggled to save as many lives as they could. Hoshi conducted interviews among the survivors; she filled data chip after data chip as the victims eagerly told her all they could remember about the swift and brutal attack. She concentrated on each word, each expression, for they differed according to the person's age, occupation and status. Although each dialect seemed dissimilar from each other, Hoshi picked up on the common characteristics of each and applied them to the whole.

_Why would such an advanced society insist on separating its people not only by language, but by birthright as well? _Hoshi talked to families who remained in the same social level for generations and never intermingled with any other. In time, their dialect and their isolation ensured their compliance.

"Excuse me, are you Ensign Sato? Forgive me for interrupting you."

She glanced up to see a brown-haired man in the green field medic uniform of the Kikuron Rescue Group. The KRG was renowned in this sector for their humanitarian efforts; even Phlox was impressed by their ability and their tenacity. The best medics in the sector worked for them, and this young man's demeanor indicated he was one of them.

"Yes, I'm Ensign Sato, and you are---"

"Doctor Rydnar Oberu, from the Tellura system." He pressed his hands together and bowed his head; Hoshi copied the greeting. "Many apologies, but you have a man on the communication band who insists on speaking with you."

She nodded. "Thank you, Doctor Oberu. I will see who it is."

"_Opahra, Dia'rranta," _Oberu said in his native tongue. He genuflected again before returning back to the medical tent.

Hoshi made her way to the main command tent and found a portable comm terminal. She was expecting Captain Archer, or perhaps even Malcolm, but instead, she found herself face to face with the scowling visage of a Trianaran government official.

"Greetings," he said in the formal administrative dialect. "Am I speaking to the translator of Captain Archer?"

She nodded. "Yes, I am Ensign Hoshi Sato. How may I be of service?"

"I am Prefect Gavva. I understand that you have been talking with the various survivors of the attack and recording their testimonies. Am I correct?"

She raised her eyebrows. The only ones who knew were Phlox, Malcolm, T'Pol and Marshal Subronn of Trianaran Security. It was conceivable that Subronn might have told Prefect Gavva, but her instincts warned her to be careful.

"Yes, I have, by the request of Trianaran Security. I was under the impression that they wanted to find the attackers and bring them to justice as quickly as possible."

Gavva bared his teeth in the Trianaran version of a smile. "Indeed. The Ruling Council and I would be interested in these testimonies as well. We have various representatives from the multitude of castes that make up our society that could assist you in a more...rounded perspective."

Hoshi inclined her head._ Rounded like the tip of a sharp needle, as Trip would say. _"I would welcome any assistance, Prefect, once I have gathered enough information to provide a clearer picture. The issue of multiple dialects and tradespeak is challenging, but not impossible."

"Excellent. I have requested the presence of your Captain Archer and Marshal Subronn when the Council convenes. We appreciate your diligence in helping us find the culprits of this attack."

She nodded again. "I am subject to the orders of my captain, Prefect Gavva."

"Then I will inform him when the Council is ready to discuss on how to proceed with the investigation. I look forward to meeting you at last. Gavva, clear." His image faded from the screen, leaving it in blackness.

Hoshi sat back and thought about this strange conversation. Gavva's intentions were clear: he had no desire to allow anyone to know the truth of what had happened to his planet. He expected her to meekly give his Council full and complete access to the testimonies she had gathered, then say nothing else about it. Gavva dismissed her skills as a translator; he had refused to refer to her by name, and only called her _"the translator of Captain Archer",_ like some sort of servant. His haughty demeanor and stilted phrasing made that quite clear.

_He wouldn't expect me to even_ breathe_ without Captain Archer's permission. _It was irritating, yet humorous in a dark sort of way. Gavva might underestimate her, but she would know better than to underestimate him. After all, she knew exactly which medical camp she was in, so he probably had eyes everywhere.

So she turned and flagged down a passing medic. "Would it be possible to contact my ship from here?" she asked.

The medic nodded and reached over her to program the correct frequency. Once he was finished, she thanked him and took out one of the UT data chips out of her pocket, hiding it in her hand. She slid it into the transmission slot, and activated an encoded scrambler that would hide her transfer from Trianaran channels.

Captain Archer appeared on the screen. "Hoshi! I was just about to call you. How does the situation look from where you are?"

She told him about her experiences with the various people in the medical camp, then about her conversation with Prefect Gavva. Jon's face darkened as she relayed Gavva's so-called "invitation" to the Council. As she talked, she surreptitiously transferred a copy of the information into Enterprise's data banks from the four data chips she'd filled so far. Gavva would take the originals, but at least she would still have a copy.

"Interesting that the Prefect would decide to contact me indirectly and not tell me face-to-face of his intentions," Jon said in an ironic tone. "If I read about his specific caste correctly, I'm about his equal."

Hoshi shrugged. "And I'm supposed to be the equivalent of a servant. He probably assumed I'd tell you what was going on because Trianarians of his caste speak through intermediaries."

He shook his head. "Delusions of grandeur," he muttered. "In any case, Commander T'Pol and Lieutenant Reed request your presence at their current location in the southwest part of the continent. I'll have Ensign Mayweather take you there via shuttlecraft. Once you arrive, you will be under the commander's direct jurisdiction and the lieutenant's direct protection. Am I clear?"

Hoshi nodded. Such formal language was hardly Jon Archer's style, but he suspected, as she did, of their conversation being overheard. Gavva, or any of his lackeys, would presume that Hoshi was indeed even less of a subordinate and needed "guidance". The necessity of the deception rankled her, but she understood it.

"Yes, sir. I understand your orders." He nodded at her, indicating that he had received her information and that their conversation was at an end. "Archer, out."

"Sato, out." She cut the connection with a sigh. She hated politics, but there were times they had to play that game. The upper-level Trianarans knew more than was apparent and she was going to find out what it was.

She didn't see Doctor Oberu hovering nearby, his dark eyes glittering in the low light of the tent.

* * *

Malcolm Reed hated politics with a passion, especially at this particular moment. He stood just outside the range of the computer screen as Marshall Subronn consulted with his direct superior, a man named Prefect Gavva. After a full ten minutes of formal greetings and courteous gestures, Subronn finally made his report on the security issue. Although Malcolm couldn't understand their words, he could read their body language.. Gavva's mouth was lifted in a permanent smirk; Malcolm knew a bully when he saw one, and Gavva definitely fit the bill.

He wasn't the only one who noticed the prefect's behavior. Commander T'Pol observed the proceedings with a raised eyebrow. Unlike Malcolm, _she _was clearly visible within the monitor's pickup. Gavva regarded her with a sneer and said something that made Subronn grit his teeth. The security man's tone became frostier than an Andorian winter, but Gavva clearly enjoyed the marshal's unease.

Subronn turned reluctantly to T'Pol and asked, "Commander, it seems that Prefect Gavva has already made Ensign Sato's acquaintance. He called her at the medical camp she was assisting in. Apparently, the prefect wishes to meet her in person, as well as your captain."

T'Pol raised her eyebrow. Malcolm shared her skepticism, even more so. She said, "Indeed? I have not had the pleasure of meeting the prefect. I understand he is considered the head of state of Trianara."

Subronn translated her words to Gavva, who said something to him in reply. "He regrets that he has not had the chance to exchange words with Captain Archer's subordinate, but hopes there will be time for a meeting before your ship departs."

"Perhaps," she said in a neutral tone. "If the prefect wishes it."

Gavva's tone changed into one of slight scorn as he said his next words. Subronn flushed purple, but he still turned to T'Pol to relay the message. "In our caste, it is traditional for the host to inquire whether or not a young female guest is...attached, to clear up any potential misunderstandings. We would not dare give offense to her...keeper."

Malcolm pressed his lips in a thin, angry line. _Keeper_? _Is that what they call a woman's significant other? _Hoshi would be furious if she ever knew what kind of attitude Gavva's caste had regarding females. Little wonder Gavva was speaking through Subronn, instead of directly _to_ T'Pol. Subronn had no problem with the Vulcan's presence, so Malcolm doubted it was a just a caste issue.

And underneath the dismissive attitude, Malcolm suspected that Gavva had more than just a token interest in Hoshi. _If that man lays one hand on her..._

T'Pol seemed to read his thoughts, for she only raised her eyebrow again at Gavva. "Ensign Sato is under the protection of our Armory officer. If she must attend an important meeting like the one you propose, he must be present as well."

Gavva's eyes flashed briefly in irritation, but then the smiling politician was back. Subronn shifted uncomfortably as he relayed the next words, "Then he wishes to consult with the Armory officer regarding Ensign Sato's status."

Malcolm nodded stiffly and stepped into range of the screen. He met Gavva's direct gaze, and for one moment, the prefect lost his confident bluster. Malcolm suppressed a smirk as the prefect addressed _him _and not Subronn. The marshal still translated for him.

"He apologizes for any accidental insult made toward the ensign and assures you that no harm will befall your...mate." Subronn flushed again, and Malcolm suspected he had made a last-minute change of words. "The prefect will consult you regarding the safety of her and your captain, once all is prepared."

Malcolm only nodded. Let Gavva believe he was silent and deadly. Judging from Gavva's expression, the prefect was still unsure of how to regard him, and that suited him fine. It would make Gavva---or any of his cohorts--- think twice before doing anything to Hoshi or Archer.

"The prefect wishes you both a good day and will relay further information later. He says farewell." Subronn nodded at Gavva, who promptly ended the conversation. The marshall slumped forward and put his head in his hands. "Forgive me. I had no idea he would be such a....a..."

Malcolm only put a hand on his shoulder. "That couldn't have been easy, Marshall. Obviously, Gavva holds no one but himself in high regard."

"I find it disturbing that the prefect had not mentioned anything regarding the security breaches or the rescue efforts on his planet," T'Pol commented.

"Yes. Quite disturbing." Subronn looked over at her. "We should bring her here to access the mining caste's information right away, before Gavva can block or destroy the information. It pains me to think our prefect may be involved in such a treacherous act upon our people, but---"

"---his behavior certainly sheds doubt upon his sincerity, yes." T'Pol agreed. She turned to Malcolm. "Lieutenant Reed, inform Ensign Sato and Captain Archer that we must make haste in translating the karacite mine's information. It would be faster if _Enterprise_ beams the ensign up to the ship, then send her here, rather than employ a shuttlecraft."

Malcolm nodded; he knew how Hoshi felt about using the transporter, but speed was of the essence. The clock was ticking loudly, and he could hear every second.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't make money off 'em.**

**Notes: Sorry for the delay in updating this. Real life has been kicking my butt in a major way. The plot thickens.**

**Reviews, please! Thanks!**

**R/S and a slight bit of TnT**

**Rating: T

* * *

**

**Three**

Hoshi materialized on the mining grounds with her UT and communicator in hand. The dry ground crunched under her feet as she made her way toward the Duilea Mines, Number 13. She shivered at the slate gray cliffs that towered over her, the dead black recesses in the rock walls, the powdery ash that covered everything within sight. She pressed the handkerchief to her mouth and suppressed a cough. The rebreather that Phlox had given her filtered the air, but not enough to stop the tickle in her throat.

"Hoshi!" Malcolm hurried to meet her halfway. He, too, wore a rebreather, but despite his best efforts, a fine powder of keracite dust coated the protective clothing he wore over his Enterprise uniform. She managed a smile at him. "Here...put this on. This dust is a bloody nuisance."

She took the clothing and hat with a grateful nod and put them on. "Have you found out who attacked the mines?"

"Not yet. We've heard all sorts of conflicting reports from all sides." He shook his head in frustration. "Most of the reports contradict each other. If I didn't know better, I'd say that someone was trying to stage a cover-up."

She thought about Gavva and his words to her and nodded in agreement. "I had the dubious pleasure of talking to Prefect Gavva. He wanted me to turn my translated interviews over to him without any fuss."

He tensed and glanced sideways at her with a hooded expression. "Commander T'Pol and I have also had the...dubious pleasure of talking with him. He contacted us a few hours ago, before we talked to Captain Archer on _Enterprise_. Gavva seemed quite eager to meet you and the Captain."

Hoshi nodded grimly. It reassured her that her instincts agreed with his. "I don't trust him, Malcolm."

He opened his mouth to say something, then revised what he was going to say. "Neither do I. I made it quite clear that if you and the Captain were to meet with him, that I was going to be present. He knows that I'm responsible for your safety, and if anything were to happen, he would answer to _me_."

She heard the dark undertone and shivered. Malcolm Reed was a dangerous man when angered, and she hoped Gavva would think twice about trying anything sneaky. She felt the Armory Officer's hand tighten on her arm as he steered her toward the mine's command post. The steps creaked as they climbed up. Malcolm tried to open the door, but the keracite dust caked on the hinges prevented it from swinging freely. He gritted his teeth and shoved against it with much more force than he'd intended. It crashed back, slammed against the inside wall, then caught on its runners. The abrupt bang made everyone inside jump, including the mine foreman and T'Pol. The Vulcan took one look at Malcolm's expression and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Lieutenant?" she asked coolly.

"My apologies, Commander. The door was stuck." He winced and motioned for Hoshi to come in. "That dust gets into every nook and cranny."

The foreman, a tall, well-muscled Trianarian, only quirked an eyebrow at Malcolm. "You're stronger than you look, Ve_'Char_," he said, giving Malcolm the formal address of "Sir". Hoshi couldn't help but smile a little as she translated the man's remark.

Malcolm smirked back. "Looks can be deceiving, Master Ven."

After Hoshi relayed his answer, the Trianarian chuckled deep within his throat. He turned and sketched a bow at Hoshi. "I am Master Foreman Donnar Ven, mining crew chief of Number 13. Allow me to activate the network without delay, _Ni'Chara _Sato." He stepped past her to the computer keyboard and input several words. "There. I hope that will help. I understand that _Ve'Char _Reed has some questions for me; please let him know that I will answer them to the best of my ability."

It took a moment to translate the words in her head. Trianaran had multiple dialects for each caste; Ven obviously belonged to the mining caste, whose dialect was nowhere near as refined as the administration caste. She nodded and told Malcolm, who smiled faintly.

"Of course," he said, addressing Ven directly. "Thank you for taking the time to talk with us. We'd like to know where you were and what you were doing at the time of the attack."

The foreman began to speak again; slowly at first, then more rapidly. Hoshi understood most of it: Ven had been in one of the main keracite shafts when the ground had shuddered above them. Several of the minor tunnels had collapsed, so he and the other miners dropped what they were doing to free the ones who were trapped. Then, he'd heard shouts and cries from the mine entrance.

"A moment later, the world exploded into flame. Those caught underground...never resurfaced again."

"I'm sorry," Hoshi murmured. The memory of the medical camps was still fresh in her mind; she couldn't even begin to imagine Ven's pain at losing his men.

The enormous sense of loss were mirrored in Ven's pale gray eyes. "We were _betrayed_, _Ne'Chara_. Betrayed by someone who knew our operation well. I only hope we find the ones responsible and bring them to justice. Until then..." His shoulders slumped. "We work as before."

T'Pol frowned. "They make you work in the mines, even though they may not be stable for further production?"

"Time is money, _Ne'Chara_ T'Pol. The Mining Commission cannot afford to halt our work for however long their 'investigation' will last." Hoshi heard the quotes, and so did the others. Ven shrugged in defeat. "They tell us to work, we work, or we will face the consequences. The healing caste has already demanded payment for their services, which is not exactly inexpensive---"

"Wait." Hoshi frowned at him, unable to believe what she'd just heard. "The healing caste has _demanded _payment for providing aid for your people?"

Ven grimaced, showing his teeth. "Yes, but the off-world healers have reassured us that they will take care of everything, including the cost of services. Our Prefect has endorsed the arrangement, so we owe the healing caste nothing. The administration caste, on the other hand, wishes us to continue as before, for the good of the people."

"I..see." Hoshi's tone was quiet, but she sternly controlled the anger and disgust she felt toward Gavva. _The nerve of the man..._The more she heard of him, the less she wanted to meet him. She wondered if there was a way to get out of the formal meeting with the Trianarian Council.

"Ensign?" T'Pol asked. The Vulcan had picked up on her emotions; Hoshi took a deep breath to calm herself. She felt Malcolm's hand on her shoulder, a steady rock of reassurance. As Hoshi translated what Ven had said, she saw T'Pol's face become even more inscrutable, and Malcolm's become even grimmer.

"We have been promised new equipment, but it has not arrived yet. I have told the administration caste that it is impossible to meet their demands without the proper tools. They have sent mechanics to help us, but it is not enough."

"Perhaps Commander Tucker can assist them," Malcolm suggested in a low tone, "and also ascertain how the attackers were able to locate the keracite and transport it so quickly. Subronn said that someone had leaked the security codes, but it would have taken a superb sense of timing, and technology, to actually steal the keracite."

T'Pol nodded in agreement. "I concur, Lieutenant. "Keracite leaves a faint, but unusual, radiation signature. I am currently conducting a scan of the surrounding space around Trianara, but it will take much time and constant readjustment of the sensors. The attackers must possess some technology to compensate for the instability of the mineral."

Malcolm asked aloud, "How many people would have intimate knowledge of your operation? By that, I mean shift schedules, personnel rosters, transportation routes from the mine to the refineries?"

Ven listened to Hoshi's translation, then thought for a moment. "Not many, _Ve'Char _Reed. Besides myself, three shift supervisors and the Minister of Mining Operations...I can give you the name of the lone remaining shift supervisor at the time of the attack. The Minister of Mining Operations...you would have to consult the Prefect's Office for that. He's of a higher caste, and would not respond to a request from the likes of myself."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow at Ven's answer. "How convenient," Malcolm murmured.

"Indeed," T'Pol agreed. "We should inform Captain Archer of this."

"Do you think the Minister of Mining Operations may be involved with this?" Hoshi asked, her eyes never leaving her screen.

"Perhaps, but this is all speculation for now. Until we have evidence connecting the Prefect's Council with the attack on the planet, we cannot assume such a thing." She raised an eyebrow. "But if you are referring to what Commander Tucker calls a 'gut instinct', then I believe there is a link between the two."

Malcolm smirked. "Vulcans have gut instincts? I won't argue with that, then." He nodded at Ven. "I'd like to talk with that shift supervisor, Master Ven, while Commander T'Pol consults with the Captain and Ensign Sato sifts through the information from your database."

"Of course, _Ve'Char_ Reed. _Ni'Chara _T'Pol, you may use my private line, one that circumvents the official channels." At Malcolm's look, Ven added, "There are some of us, _Ve'Char_ Reed, for whom discretion is a matter of survival."

Hoshi turned her attention back to the encrypted files, but not without catching a glimpse of a thoughtful look on Malcolm's face. Even with Ven's assistance, the analysis was slow going, and she saw telltale signs of tampering. Whoever had tried to change the information had done a sloppy job of it, or they hadn't expected anyone to look too closely. Hoshi guessed the latter; the arrogance of the Prefect's caste was almost laughable, if it wasn't so sinister.

_Why would they stage an attack on their own planet? It doesn't make any sense._ T'Pol was right; they couldn't assume anything, but her own gut instincts told her that they were on the right track. The only way to find the truth was to confront the lion in his den, and that meant meeting with Prefect Gavva.

T'Pol returned with her PADD and a look of disquiet on her face. "Ensign? May I have a word?"

She nodded as the last bit of information scrolled onto her own PADD's screen. "Of course, Commander, I just finished. Excuse me, Master Ven."

"Ni'Chara." Ven pressed his palms together and bowed his head. "I will see if your partner has finished questioning the shift supervisor."

"My---" She didn't get a chance to ask before he quickly walked out the door. Ven had used the Trianarian word _"gen'aar"_, which meant "something more than a friend, but less than a mate", and implied all sorts of things that made her uncomfortable. It was good that Malcolm didn't understand any of the Trianarian dialects.

She refocused on T'Pol, who gazed at her with a lifted eyebrow, and gave herself a mental shake. "Commander?"

"Captain Archer has received the details of your meeting with Prefect Gavva. There will be a reception in two days' time. You and Lieutenant Reed will accompany the Captain to the Council Hall." T'Pol handed her the PADD. "At that point in time, the Prefect will want to hear about your investigation, as well as the Lieutenant's findings."

Her mouth twisted in a faint grimace. "Hand over our evidence, you mean."

"On the contrary. There is nothing that states you must relinquish all of your hard-earned work. Not if we take the necessary precautions." T'Pol nodded. "I can convey your findings here personally to the Captain and Commander Tucker."

Hoshi nodded. T'Pol had worked for the Vulcan Security Ministry; of course, she knew ways to get around "official" instructions. Hoshi popped the datacard out of her PADD and handed it to the Vulcan. T'Pol nodded and met her gaze, and Hoshi knew she'd found a formidable ally.

"Thank you, Commander."

* * *

She spent the next two days researching formal Trianarian customs, in between translating for Phlox's medical teams and Trip's engineering teams. Trip and Ven were in the process of repairing the equipment for the keracite mines. With any luck, Ven's mining operation could resume with little trouble. Trip, with his natural cheer, got along with the quieter, more solemn Ven. Both discussed the best ways to streamline the process to make up for the disruption caused by the attack.

T'Pol talked with him every evening, claiming that she needed to report his progress to Captain Archer. Yet Hoshi heard a sense of concern from her, and thought that she would be relieved when Trip returned to Enterprise. She didn't blame T'Pol one bit, especially with Malcolm making arrangements for the meeting with the Prefect and his Council.

Now Hoshi gazed at herself in the mirror and adjusted the collar of her formal uniform. She'd considered wearing civilian clothing, but decided against it. If Gavva saw her as a Starfleet representative, it would make him think twice against doing anything to her. She sighed as she braided her long dark hair and looped it into a bun. Definitely not her usual style, but she figured that the more professional her appearance, the better.

Her doorbell chimed. "Enter!" she called. She turned to see Malcolm step through her door, also in formal uniform. He smiled faintly as he saw her. "What?"

"I don't believe I've ever seen you wear that yet," he replied. "It's very becoming on you."

She tried not to blush. "Thank you, Malcolm. You don't look half-bad yourself."

His smile widened a fraction, and to her surprise, he offered her his arm. "Stay close," he told her in a low voice. "As long as I'm with you, the Council is honor-bound to keep their distance."

She nodded; that much, she'd read from the cultural files. Hoshi tried to ignore the slight thrill she felt at his touch. This was professional, not personal. Malcolm took the safety of the crew quite seriously, especially in a potentially dangerous situation like this. It was his duty to protect her and the Captain.

Archer met them at the transporter room. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "All set, you two?"

"Yes, Captain," Hoshi replied, with more confidence than she felt.

The captain patted her arm in reassurance. "It'll be all right. We won't let anything happen to you. Won't we, Malcolm?"

"Of course, sir," was Malcolm's quiet reply. She noticed he ignored the knowing look Archer gave him.

"Let's get his over with, then." Archer nodded at the transporter tech as he and the others took their places on the pad. "Energize."

She took a deep breath as her safe and secure world vanished in sparkles of light.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't make money off 'em.**

**Notes: RL has finally eased a little so I can actually work on this. Our heroes find themselves in an uncomfortable diplomatic situation...and in a lot of trouble.**

**Reviews, please! Thanks!**

**R/S **

**Rating: T

* * *

**

**Four**

The Trianara Council chambers reminded Hoshi of the Sanctuary of P'Jem. The floor-to-ceiling columns were inscribed with brightly-colored text and pictures, and the warm sandstone walls reflected the light from the torches. She glanced down at the floor at the intricate mosaics embedded there; sea-blue, crimson and verdant glass sparkled in the dim light.

"_Ve'Char _ Reed, it is good to see you."

Malcom smiled and extended his hand to Marshall Subronn. "Marshall Subronn."

Subronn grasped his hand and shook it once before letting it go. He looked sideways at Hoshi, then at Captain Archer. "You must be Ensign Sato, the translator of Captain Archer," he said, with a friendly nod at both of them. Hoshi noticed that he used a dialect that marked them as equals to Subronn's rank and social status.

"Captain Jonathan Archer," Archer confirmed and also shook Subronn's hand. "And yes, this is Ensign Sato."

Subronn bowed deeply to her as she translated the words."It is an honor and pleasure to finally meet the _di'nahra _of the esteemed Captain, and the _Kv'ohraiya _ of Lieutenant Reed. He has spoken highly of your translation skills."

She blushed; "_di'nahra" _roughly translated as "voice", which in a sense, was accurate. _Kv'ohraiya_ meant something like "a military officer's mate, with all the privledges and honors therein, and a noblewoman in her own right." It was a title rarely used in high Trianaran society, though it did exist.

"Thank you," she replied. "May I ask..._Kv'ohraiya_?"

Subronn inclined his head at her. "I see the way he looks at you, _Ni'Chara_. My job is to notice things like that. I would not say otherwise, should the Prefect asks of your relationship with him."

"Ah." Hoshi said with a nod. Subronn was warning her about Prefect Gavva's intentions; Gavva would be less likely to attempt anything untoward. "I understand."

"Hoshi?" Malcolm asked.

"I was just clarifying some arrangements," she answered. Strictly speaking, it _was _the truth. "But I think we should still be careful."

"Agreed," Archer said. He nodded at Subronn. "Marshal?"

"This way." Subronn brought himself along Captain Archer as they walked down the corridor, as befitted his rank, while Malcolm and Hoshi took up the rear. Again, Malcolm offered his arm to her, and she took it and kept in step with him.

The corridor led to a large atrium with a skylight set high above it. Moonlight illuminated the room's mosaics and wall paintings, throwing rainbows of color. Huge transparent windows revealed a view of the nearby mountain valley. It was a breathtaking sight, if Hoshi was relaxed enough to enjoy it.

"Captain Archer." Prefect Gavva turned from a conversation with a minor official. An unnatural smile cracked his face as he offered a hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you face to face."

"Prefect Gavva," Archer answered, as he shook Gavva's hand once, as was customary. He nodded at Malcolm. "My armory officer, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed and my communications officer and translator, Ensign Hoshi Sato."

Gavva nodded at Malcolm. "Yes, we've already spoken on the comm channel. Be welcome, Lieutenant."

Malcolm only nodded at him and Gavva's eyes narrowed in a calculating look as he took in the formal uniform and the way Malcolm held Hoshi's arm. The Prefect's look of surprise was smoothly hidden under a polite expression.

"I did not know she was your _Kv'ohraiya, _Lieutenant," he said. "Forgive me; I meant no offense in our earlier conversation. You have my word that she will receive the best hospitality and care while she is under my eye here."

Hoshi translated his words and Malcolm replied in turn, "I appreciate your cooperation in this matter, sir."

Gavva turned back to Captain Archer. "Let me introduce you to my Council, then we will enjoy a meal before I and my Council listen to what you all have seen and experienced."

The next three hours crawled by as Gavva took them around the atrium, introducing them to every member of his Council. Hoshi translated the formal greetings and polite mouthings, while committing every face and name to memory. She noticed that each Council representative hailed from the largest and most influential sectors of Trianara. There were no people from the trade guilds, the mining caste, or the medical caste. Fully half were officers in the Trianara Forces, including Marshall Subronn. All of them were male and over 40 Trianaran seasons old. No one paid attention to her, despite the fact she was translating for the captain; it was as if she didn't exist, which suited her just fine.

"It's a miracle they get anything done, it seems," Malcolm commented, as they shared a mug of good Trianarian spring water. "There's what...close to sixty Council members?"

Hoshi shook her head. "Numbers are deceiving. Most of the Sixty take their orders directly from the military caste, who support Gavva. Effectively, Gavva has all of them dancing to his tune. It's a 'benevolent dictatorship'."

"No wonder it seems that the Council has no idea of how serious this crisis is."

"They do, but they can't even _breathe_ without Gavva's explicit permission." She shook her head. "I don't like this, Malcolm. Even if we _do_ tell them how bad it is, I doubt they'd do much unless he allows them to."

"A bloody shame. And what about the missing keracite?"

Hoshi frowned. "No one's even mentioned it. Either they don't know about it or no one wants to talk about it."

"Subronn would have told some of them. I can't believe they don't know about it." He glanced over as Gavva motioned the Council to take their seats. "Looks like the Prefect is calling the meeting to order. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"If I can get through to _one_ of them, it will be worth it." Despite her brave words, it took all over her self-control to keep from shakiang like a leaf. All eyes would be on her, especially Prefect Gavva's. He had given her some unreadable looks throughout the introductions. She knew he was already revising his original plan, whatever it was.

Malcolm looked over at her and whispered in her ear, "I'll be right here and the Captain will be close by. We won't let anything happen to you."

She gave him a smile of relief. "Thank you, Malcolm."

The Council quickly assumed their seats and Gavva stood up from his position high above the others. "I have asked our guests to relate their experiences in helping our people in the wake of this attack. Please listen and think on what you hear; these reports will provide much information for our investigation." He inclined his head at Hoshi. "Please."

She took a deep breath and glanced over the Sixty. Their reactions ranged from curious, to suspicious, to indifferent. It looked no different from the panel she'd faced when she'd defended her thesis in linguistics years ago. As long as she kept that in mind, it wouldn't be so bad. So she took another deep breath and began to talk. She found herself slipping into what she dubbed "teacher mode", modulating her voice to keep her audience's interest. Her voice rang through the atrium and echoed like a siren song in a cavern.

Unconsciously, she used her hands and body language to make her points known, like a dancer. It was a habit that came naturally to her; she couldn't even restrain herself, even if she tried.

And close by, Malcolm marveled at her oratory skill as she kept the Sixty under her spell. He watched their reactions carefully. Those who were indifferent began to show some interest, those who were hostile softened their expressions, while those who were curious watched with awe. Gavva, in particular, kept his eyes on her, with something resembling a wicked pleasure.

Malcolm shifted slightly and attracted Gavva's attention for a moment. The Prefect's features hardened as their gazes met in a cold challenge. Malcolm's words were clear without being spoken: _Touch her and I will kill you. Make no mistake of that. _Gavva's mouth turned upward in a bemused smirk, then he returned his attention to Hoshi's lecture.

"He's a clever bastard, isn't he."

Malcolm glanced at Captain Archer in surprise. Archer's face was impassive as ever, but the low, angry tone told Malcolm what he was thinking. Such language was out of character, but Archer noticed things when it involved his crew.

"Yes, sir," Malcolm replied in a low voice.

"When Hoshi's finished, I'd like to get out of here as quickly as we can without offending them."

"I fervently agree with you, sir."

Hoshi's sharp hearing overheard the conversation and she smoothly brought her report to an end. She paused, looked over the assembly, bowed to Gavva, then took a step back towards Malcolm, blatantly putting herself back into his protection. Marshall Subronn pounded his tabletop with his fist; within moments, the rest of the Sixty took up the applause.

Gavva stood up and bowed back to her, causing a pleased and surprised gasp among the Sixty. It signified that he was willing to speak to her as an equal, an honor bestowed on very few. "Thank you for that enlightening report, _Ni'Chara_. We will take your words under due consideration and find ways to better serve our people during this crisis."

"I am grateful for your willingness, Prefect," she replied coolly.

Gavva made his way down to the floor and stopped a few meters away from her. Smoothly, Malcolm stepped between them as was his right as her protector. A pleased murmur swept through the Sixty at his actions.

"I mean her no harm, _Ve'Char _Reed. I only wish to honor our previous agreement." Gavva smiled and held out his hand. "If it would ease your mind, the _Ni'Chara_ can hand the data chips to you, and you to me, and that way there is no contact between me and her."

Hoshi translated his words and Malcolm nodded. "Very well, sir," Malcolm replied.

Gavva nodded back. His face was schooled into a pleasant expression, though his eyes were hard ice chips. "Proceed, then."

Hoshi reached into her belt and withdrew the four data chips containing her interviews with the people in the medical camp. Of course, these weren't the only copies; T'Pol was analyzing them up on _Enterprise_ and Trip Tucker was sharing them with the mining crew he worked with. Another copy was on its way to Starfleet Command. She sighed and looked down at the chips, then reluctantly handed them over to Malcolm. He offered them to Gavva, who accepted them. The Prefect's touch was oily, as if his palms were slicked with grease, and Malcolm repressed a shiver as his skin made contact with Gavva's.

"Thank you, _Ni'Chara_. All of Trianara is in your debt." Gavva glanced at Captain Archer. "You are fortunate to have such a person under your command, Captain."

Archer smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I am."

Gavva picked up one of the chips with his other hand and studied it. "We will view these tonight and debate until we have a long-range plan to help our people back to normalcy. Thank you, Captain."

They all heard the tone of dismissal and Subronn got up once again to escort the Starfleet officers out into the corridor. As soon as the atrium was far behind them, Hoshi let out a long sigh of relief. Archer reached over and squeezed her shoulder.

"Well done, Hoshi."

She shook her head. "I don't know how much help that will be, sir. Gavva says all the right things and acts the right way, but I'm not sure if he'll keep his word."

"We'll see. Once we get back to the ship, I'm having a word with Admiral Gardner. We're supposed to keep friendly relations with Gavva's government, but I think Gardner may have to rethink some of his proposals after I tell him about this."

Malcolm scowled. "Proposals?"

"I'll tell you later, Malcolm. I just found out about them this afternoon." Archer glanced at Marshall Subronn. "Thank you for your assistance, Marshall."

Hoshi translated his words, and Subronn managed a smile. "You're quite welcome, Captain. It is my hope that at the very least, this will ease our people's suffering."

"As is mine." Archer flipped open his communicator. "Archer to _Enterprise._ Three to beam up."

Hoshi took a deep breath as she waited for the transporter beam. The moment it swept over her, she knew something was wrong. Instead of golden sparkles, green bands overwhelmed her consciousness. The last thing she heard was the sound of weaponry echoing off the stone walls of the corridor, then there was nothing at all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't make money off 'em.**

**Notes: A little break in POV here as the Council's actions (and the Away Team's disappearance) have far reaching consequences.**

**And in answer to your question, Honeybee: no, Hoshi didn't go to P'Jem during that incident, but I'm sure she would have done some research on it and accessed information from the Vulcan database at one point.**

**Oh, one other thing: Liz Cutler's alive and well in my universe, and has gotten a promotion. And you'll see Ensign Bernhard Mueller at the end of the chapter. (He'll be busy, Volley. Trust me.) His words at the end translate to, "So it goes." [which in this case, has the sense of "so it begins."]**

**R/S and TnT**

**Rating: T**

**Please R&R. Thanks!

* * *

**

**Five**

"Whaddaya mean they've disappeared?"

Commander Trip Tucker leaned heavily against a massive ore sorter in Mine Shaft Number Seven. His left hand unconsciously brushed the keracite dust from the front of his protective suit. Despite all of his precautions, the dust made him cough slightly and feel itchy as hell. He'd already had to send both Rostov and Kelly back to the ship to go through decon. Trip seriously considered doing the same in the wake of T'Pol's report.

"They were beamed out from the Council Chambers to an unknown location," T'Pol repeated calmly. "The Council reports several casualties, including Marshall Subronn."

"Damn it, I _knew_ going over there was a bad idea."

"I wholeheartedly concur. In the wake of the Away Team's disappearance, all Starfleet personnel are recalled back to the ship, including all engineering and medical teams."

"Phlox is gonna hate that," Trip muttered, "but I can understand why. Let me gather up my people here and we should be back in about four or five minutes."

"That will be acceptable, Commander. _Enterprise_, out."

Trip flipped his communicator shut and tucked it back into a pocket. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and mentally said several bad words he'd learned from Hoshi a while ago. When he opened his eyes, he yelled, "Campbell!"

"Here, sir." Crewman Neal Campbell scrambled up from where he conversed with one of the miners. Hoshi's third-in-command of the Comm department reminded Trip of Hoshi during her first year on _Enterprise_: idealistic and scared to death. Campbell's linguistics skills, though not at Hoshi's level, were decent, and he'd managed to learn enough of the mining caste's dialect to be Trip's translator.

"Find Master Ven and tell him I need to see him. Then round up engineering teams two and three...we're being recalled to the ship."

"Aye, sir." Campbell took off running as Trip knelt and scooped up his tools. Trianarian mining technology was at least fifty years behind Earth's; the inefficient machines made Ven's work not only dangerous, but life-threatening as well. It all reminded Trip of the coal mines of nineteenth and twentieth century Earth and their effects on the miners.

_Ven said something about the "coughing death". If that doesn't describe their version of "black lung", I don't know what does. _Trip shook his head and got back to his feet just as Master Ven appeared around the bend of the tunnel, with Campbell close behind.

"Your young man told me you're returning to your ship. What has happened?" Ven asked.

Trip explained the situation, with Campbell translating for him. When he had finished, Ven let out several Trianarian epithets that made Campbell blush. "I knew that the Prefect would renege on his agreement of protection. He has kidnapped them and will hold them hostage until your Starfleet agrees to his terms."

"What terms? All he's done is made a lot of people pretty angry."

"Trade agreements on the keracite, as well as technological and medical advances. He knows about how you've been helping us on that end. He has spies everywhere."

"He should know that Starfleet doesn't negotiate with terrorists." Trip felt a painful pang at the memory of Terra Prime and their members. "He's gonna hang himself if he's not careful."

Ven nodded. "Indeed. It pains me that we should cut our visitation short, but I would prefer you return safely to your ship as soon as possible."

"Yeah. Don't worry, Ven. We'll be back to help your people." He clapped the Trianarian on shoulder, then glanced up at Campbell. "C'mon, Crewman."

"Yes, sir."

When the engineering teams beamed back to Enterprise, Trip immediately ordered his people into decon. Since Phlox was still on-planet, Lieutenant Elizabeth Cutler was in charge of their care. He wasn't surprised to see T'Pol at the decon chamber window. T'Pol's expression was neutral, but he could feel her disquiet and anger.

"Shielded frequency, Commander," she said, as she placed an earpiece into the Decon chamber's slot. Trip accepted it and placed it into his ear as he activated the channel. "What the hell's going on, T'Pol?"

"Captain Archer, Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Sato were beamed to an unknown location. Their biosigns are hidden from our sensors, but we are recalibrating them to match known Trianarian specifications. They were taken just before they were beamed back to Enterprise, after their meeting with the Trianarian Council."

"What did the Council have to say about this?"

"Prefect Gavva has called them into a closed emergency session and has ignored all hails. His actions are within his rights as the head of his government, but it sheds some suspicion on his motivations."

Trip snorted. "Yeah. That way he doesn't have to talk with us."

"Indeed. There were casualties among the Council, most of them belonging to the more moderate faction of the government. Unfortunately, that included the Head of Security, Marshall Subronn and the remaining Minister of Mining Operations."

"Great. So the only ones who could tell anyone what really happened at the mines are the workers, and no one's gonna listen to them." Trip closed his eyes in frustration. "Gavva's got this all planned."

T'Pol inclined her head. "Yes, though he has 'covered his tracks' quite effectively." Trip heard the quotes and couldn't help but smile a little. "There is one positive development in this situation. We have traced the keracite readings from the attack."

"You did?" He straightened up from where he leaned against the wall.

"Yes. The keracite was taken toward a string of mining refineries in the Kelowna Sector."

"Kelowna Sector. That's Orion territory."

"The Kelowna Sector also shares one common border with the Klingon Empire. It is a valid assumption that whoever has stolen the keracite plans to sell it to the Orion Syndicate, the Klingons, or both."

Trip whistled as he thought about the ramifications. "That would tip the trade markets in their favor and give 'em better ships, better planetary defenses..."

"...as well as medical and pharmaceutical advantages. Doctor Phlox has told me of information missing from the Trianarian database, as well as from the Kikuro Rescue Group. This incident of information espionage has expanded to cover other sectors besides engineering and tactics."

He sighed in frustration. "All right, what's the plan? We know that the Prefect won't hear us out, and we can't just leave the Cap'n and the others down there."

She nodded, her amber-brown eyes hard. "No, we will not leave them. As soon as you are released from Decon, we will discuss the situation with Admiral Gardner, then we will consult with Ensign Mueller and the Armory team to plan a rescue."

Her calm words both surprised and delighted him. "I suppose being around us has helped you consider other 'logical' options?"

Although she didn't smile, her voice betrayed her humor. "Logic dictates that when all avenues of diplomacy has failed, other avenues must be contemplated. I am merely following what is logical."

* * *

Phlox normally didn't lose his temper, but he was almost willing to make an exception in this case. Doctor Rydnar Oberu of the KRG vented the anger that Phlox felt by engaging in a spirited argument with the Minister of Medical Services. Despite Oberu's eloquent plea, Phlox could tell the Council refused to rescind their order.

"_Shekkah_!" Oberu cursed as he slammed his hand on the comm button. "If we leave now, then hundreds, perhaps thousands of patients will not get the help they require. Our agreement with the Council guarantees free medical care for them, but that is valid as long as we stay here."

Phlox nodded. Both Oberu and Ensign Sato had told him about the deal the KRG had hashed out with the Trianarian government. Phlox found it just appalling how the Ministry of Medical Services wanted heavy payment for medical aid that should have been without cost. It went against everything he had learned as a physician. Oberu lived by an oath similar to the Terran Hippocratic, which dictated the obligations and duties of a medical practictioner.

"We have been recalled back to Enterprise as well," Phlox said grimly. "Captain Archer, Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Sato have been taken hostage."

"The Prefect has taken an interest in your young translator. I noticed how he looked at her the last he contacted here. My colleagues admire her for her bravery and her steadfastness...they are traits that we look for in the KRG. If she were a Healer, I would seriously consider her a promising candidate."

Phlox chuckled and shook his head. "It appears that Ensign Sato has that kind of effect on people. It is her job and her nature to reach out to others."

Oberu glanced around and motioned Phlox closer. He lowered his tone as he added, "Doctor Nsisla has taken some of the worst cases and spirited them away to what the Trianarians call 'safe havens'. It's not common knowledge, but some members of the medical caste have been hiding medical supplies and equipment for years."

"That is dangerous. What if they are discovered?"

"Nsisla says she and the others are willing to take the risk. Doctor Abraham Ben-Zarion will coordinate the evacuation of most of our people back to the medical frigates and transports in orbit, but they will remain in Trianarian space. We will not abandon those in need."

Phlox raised his eyebrows; Oberu implied he would be going into hiding as well. Ben-Zarion was a skilled officer with the KRG, but hardly the savvy politician that Oberu was. "What if the Prefect orders Ben-Zarion to leave? You will be stranded here."

"Abraham understands that his duty is to protect our people, first and foremost. He will not risk a conflict." Oberu chuckled and shook his head. "You should join us, Phlox. We need someone with your expertise and skills."

It was a tempting offer, but Phlox reluctantly shook his head. "I have an obligation to my ship and crew, Rydnar. They also need a physician."

"You are civilian; you are not subject to Earth's orders."

"No, I am not, but this goes beyond any order that Captain Archer---or anyone else---could give me." He smiled gently. "I wish I could assist you, my friend, and if circumstances were different, I might, but you must understand the position I am in."

Oberu nodded and returned the smile. "I do understand, but I had to try. Please, take care of yourself and your crew, Phlox. May the Gods grant that we meet again."

"Good luck, Rydnar." Phlox shook his hand, then watched as he walked away among his med teams. If circumstances were different, the answer might have been different. Phlox understood the obligations a physician had to his patients, and he thought of the risks Oberu was taking with a heavy heart.

"Enterprise to Phlox."

He flipped open his communicator. "Phlox here."

"Doctor, are your medical personnel prepared to be beamed aboard?" asked Commander T'Pol.

"Yes, we are, Commander."

"Stand by for transport."

Phlox looked around the medical tent one last time before it vanished from sight.

* * *

Most people tended to underestimate Travis Mayweather. The ensign's easygoing, friendly attitude appealed to others and he found it easy to engage them in conversation. This skill had helped him during his days on the Horizon; there were days his father had preferred to take him, instead of Paul, along on trade negotiations with vendors on Draylax, Alpha Centauri or Vega. Travis found out all sorts of information that way, helpful or not.

He and Ensign Philippe Trieste ferried supplies and patients to and from Trianara Three and in the process, got to know the members of the Transportation caste, fairly well. The pilots reminded Travis of the squadrons during the World Wars, a close-knit group who looked out for each other in the skies. Their dialect was rather complicated, but one of Hoshi's comm people managed to help him get his words across.

"...My frilkar used to take me between Trianara and Jekor's Star," said Nowir Thandoo. The transport pilot's tone was wistful as he swept his hand to and fro. "We'd find all sorts of rare items for sale all over the sector. It was a free life, a good one."

Travis nodded and glanced askance at Ensign Daniel Hertzog. "Frilkar?"

"I believe that's the rough Trianarian equivalent of grandfather, sir," Hertzog said. He asked Nowir something in the dialect, and the pilot nodded in agreement.

"My family did something similar. Yes, it was a good life."

Nowir sighed and shook his head. "Then came the black days. The transports came under the ownership of the higher castes and we had to carry what they dictated, at the prices they set. Frilkar refused to give up his independence, and so he was forced out. I was taken at an early age and trained on these---" He fondly patted the transport's control panel, "---of which I now fly."

Travis and Ensign Hertzog exchanged glances. Dan was also a Boomer by birth and knew the kind of lifestyle. "You seem to enjoy flying these sturdy little craft," Travis said.

"_Ya'aa._ They are many _uirrra_ old, but they are safe and reliable. Large enough to carry what needs to be carried. I have no complaints. This one used to go between Luiva and Tatraji every tiitri day without fail," Nowir sighed in contentment. "If this one can talk, imagine the stories she can tell!"

Travis chuckled and gave Dan a look of amusement. "Yeah, I'm sure she'd tell all sorts of tales, Nowir."

Dan shook his head. "Luiva? Tatraji? Are those the Trianarian names for the systems? I'm not familiar with them."

Nowir blinked, then gave them a look of understanding. "Ah, I see. Our starcharts and measurements are different from yours. Here, let me show you." He effortlessly brought up a chart on a secondary screen in front of Travis. "There, that star? That is Luiva. Tatraji is the system about five laajii away. Do they look familiar to you now?"

Travis nodded and touched the screen. "This is what we call the Kelowna Sector. That star is known to us as Suvara and the system is Patreus. The farthest edge of it is the border between the territory of the Orions and the Klingons."

"Orions? The race with the ugly males and the beautiful females skilled in the ways of _pepar'ra_?" Nowir asked with a sly expression.

Dan coughed and turned crimson, while Travis raised his eyebrows in a conspiratorial attitude. "Yeah, those are them. You guys are familiar with their trade practices."

"Oh, _sha_! They bargain and deal for all things, especially for the ones they lack. Trianara has been a good supplier of those items. Unfortunately, I do not fly those routes, but I know of friends who do so. How I envy them!"

Travis grinned and gave a dramatic sigh. "I can see why. Think of all the stories they can tell."

"We should have a Gathering and exchange stories,_ Ve'Char_ Mayweather. I'm sure the ones in my Clan would want to listen to your words about your adventures in the Black Sky."

Travis smiled over at Dan and said, "Sounds good. I'd love to meet your Clan."

He, Dan and Nowir made several more runs to and from the planet, and Nowir introduced them to the members of his Clan. They only had a few hours to swap those stories before the recall order came from Enterprise, but those few hours were enough to provide Travis with vital clues to the Trianara trade routes to the Kelowna Sector and the Patreus system. When he volunteered his information to Commanders Tucker and T'Pol, as well as Ensign Bernhard Mueller and Doctor Phlox, he knew they were closer to understanding this conspiracy.

"Ensign Mayweather, are you familiar with any Boomer freighters that do business in that area?" Commander T'Pol asked.

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Can you find out information about them?"

"That shouldn't be a problem, ma'am, if I have Ensign Hertzog's help."

T'Pol glanced at Trip and they both nodded. "Do it," Trip said. "In the meantime, we've got a rescue to plan."

Ensign Bernhard Mueller nodded and muttered, "_Also, so geht's_."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't make money off 'em.**

**Notes: Sorry for the delay in updating this. Real life stuff. Again. Argh.**

**You find out why Gavva's taken Hoshi...and the rescue team needs disguises...**

**Master Chief Antoine Desgauld is _Enterprise_'s quartermaster. He was introduced in my story "Five Words no Engineer Wants to Hear."**

**Language translation (German, from Bernhard Mueller): "_Ach, um Gottes Willen! Hast du 'ne Meise?!_" Oh, for God's sake! Are you !!! nuts?" Poor Bernhard. :-)**

**Rating: T**

**R/S and TnT**

**Please R&R Thanks.**

**

* * *

**

**Six**

Hoshi heard the gentle rush of water and the soft strains of flute music. Warm sunlight bathed her face and made it difficult to open her eyes. She simply laid there and savored that warmth for a few more minutes until her brain became more awake.

_Water? Flute music?_ She opened her eyes to a ceiling made of blue opaque glass that resembled a perfect summer sky. The wall to her right was made up of huge windows that overlooked a spectacular mountain view. A pair of double-doors led out to a balcony and she could clearly hear running water outside. She managed to lever herself to a sitting position; every muscle and joint in her body ached fiercely_._

Instead of her formal Starfleet uniform, she wore a traditional reddish-brown, short sleeved Trianarian tunic and sandals. Hoshi noticed something around her left bicep, a sparkling turquoise and silver armband. She gave it an experimental tug, but it was snug around her arm.

_Tracking device,_ she thought. _Gavva wants to make sure I don't escape._ She sighed as a brisk wind chilled her skin. First, she needed to find Captain Archer and Malcolm, then they needed to get away from Gavva and contact _Enterprise_. Why had the Prefect kidnapped the three of them? He had to know that holding them hostage was not a smart idea. Trip and T'Pol were probably planning a rescue mission at this very moment.

Her sharp hearing picked up the murmur of voices just outside her door. Before she could react, it slid open sideways and a green-skinned, black-haired woman peeked into the room. The Orion's eyes widened as she saw Hoshi, then her face split in an impossibly wide grin. Hoshi just stared at her dumbly...what was an _Orion_ doing here on Trianara?

"May I come in? You must have just awakened from your nap. I'm Sorcha; you must be Hoshi." Sorcha stepped into the room without invitation and quickly slid the door closed behind her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be a bother, but we were starting to get worried. The meeting's going to begin soon, and Lady Nhori needs her translator. It's an important day; don't you remember?"

Hoshi blinked in confusion; the sudden headache that pounded in her temples wasn't helping. "What? I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Sorcha crossed over to the closet and threw open the door to reveal a row of silk gowns hanging neatly from a rack. She selected one, turned to Hoshi and compared the color to Hoshi with a critical eye, shook her head, and replaced the gown, only to pull out another one. The light sparkled on the ruby armband on Sorcha's right bicep and complimented the scarlet dress she wore.

She clucked her tongue and shook her head at another fashion selection. "The trade talks? We're going to finalize the details between Trianara and the Orion Syndicate. We're in desperate need of medical supplies and building materials. Your Earth Starfleet sent you here to help with communication between the different species."

"I don't remember..." Hoshi shook her head, willing the headache to go away. A random memory surfaced, of the three Orion sisters aboard her ship, and a similar feeling of lethargy. What was happening to her? This wasn't right...she _knew _it wasn't right.

Sorcha frowned, her hands on a stunning orange silk. "Are you all right? Shall I call the doctor? Has something happened to you? I know that the Trianarians have made sure that the delegates are safe, but there are so many people who don't wish to see this happen, like the Klingons. Wait, you sit down and I'll help you. Will you let me help?"

Hoshi shook her head again; the Orion's chatter was starting to drive her crazy. Sorcha took advantage of her indecision and gently steered her onto the futon on the floor. Then she crossed over to the terminal and tapped a comm relay. "My Lady? I'm with Hoshi. Something's happened to her; I think someone's tried to alter her memory. We need help."

There was a murmur of confirmation over the line, then Sorcha closed the channel. She glanced at Hoshi with a worried expression. "Lady Nhori is coming, Hoshi. She'll help you. In the meantime, let's make you a little bit presentable, all right?"

She only nodded back; her head hurt too much to think. Sorcha helped her out of the Trianarian tunic and into the orange silk gown. It clung to her body like a second skin and laced delicately up the back. Sorcha's nimble fingers tied the laces and straps with practiced ease. She went to the cosmetics bureau and selected face paint and lip gloss to complement Hoshi's skin and hair.

"Stay still," Sorcha commanded as Hoshi began to protest. "It's been a while since I've had the opportunity to do this...to make someone beautiful for the one she loves. I need to make sure my skills don't fall into disuse."

"But---" Hoshi closed her eyes as Sorcha began to run a brush gently through her long dark hair. A childhood memory rose up, unbidden, of her grandmother fixing her hair for the Girls' Day celebration, _Hinamatsuri_, and dressing her up in her very first grown-up kimono. The memory sent a warm feeling through her limbs, the feeling of being loved and cared for.

The door slid open and an elderly Trianaran woman stood there, her aqua eyes wide with curiosity and concern. Silver-gray strands fell straight down her back in an icy waterfall and blended with the robe she wore. The fine weave of the fabric and the intricate decorations told Hoshi this woman was highly ranked.

"_Katta nhirsa 'e?"_ Hoshi asked. "Where am I?"

The woman's eyes widened in surprise and her brow wrinkled in worry. She crossed the room in a few steps as she pulled a medical scanner out of a pouch around her waist. "_Katta gurri de'res'tan." _You are a guest in my house.

Hoshi managed a smile, for the rules of hospitality were sacred. No one was going to harm her here. "_De'nahsti. Te 'e Hoshi." _Thank you. I'm Hoshi.

The woman smiled. "_Bahn'e. Yun'res'gho tan la'rui se." _ I know. My son has told me about you.

She blinked, blinked again, and took a closer look. The woman's face was unlined with age, and the smile was softer, more genuine, but very familiar. Hoshi realized who she must be. "_Se'res'gho katta G'havva? _Prefect Gavva is your son?"

"_Te 'e Nhori. Katta res'gho G'havva." _ I am Nhori. Gavva is my son. She switched dialects and went on, "Can you understand me if I speak this?"

"Yes, I can." Hoshi inclined her head at the completely different cadence of words. "You're a medic."

"I was born within the medical caste, yes. My firstname was Doctor Shen Nhori, before I caught the eye of Minister Dhin Gavva. That was a long time ago." A shadow went over Nhori's face, but then it was gone before Hoshi could be sure. She read the results on her scanner, then frowned. "Sorcha, will you please run and fetch me a tri-oxygen supplement? I warned the others this would happen if we decided to hold the talks here. The thinner air is beginning to affect the delegates."

Sorcha bobbed her head in agreement. "At once, My Lady. Shall I also check the others to make sure they aren't affected by the altitude as well?"

Nhori thought for a moment, then nodded. "We can't have people becoming sick on this day, of all days. Thank you, my dear. Once we take care of Hoshi, you may distribute other supplements as needed."

"Of course, My Lady." Sorcha smiled at Hoshi and added, "I'll be right back." She stepped out into the hall and disappeared.

Nhori smiled and put a hand on her arm as she anticipated Hoshi's next question. "Your companions are well. They are also my guests and as long as they are here, they will not be harmed. _Jonathan_, as he insisted I call him, is conversing with Gavva. Your _Kv'ohraiy _is also there, keeping him safe. I will take you there as soon as we make sure you are well."

Hoshi let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She remembered them now and how she had been concerned for their safety. Just hearing the words reassured her. "Thank you."

"The dark-haired man, Malcolm, how long has he been your _Kv'ohraiy_?" Nhori's face was guileless, but Hoshi detected an odd note in her tone. Just _what_ had Gavva told his own mother? She decided to err on the side of caution.

"A while."

"I thought as such. He seems quite devoted to you. It must be reassuring, to have a loyal protector such as he."

"Yes, it is. He takes his job seriously, _Ni'Chara, _for he protects all of us, including the captain."

"Does that bother you? The possibility that he may be injured or killed doing his duty?"

Hoshi glanced at her. It was a question she had debated within herself for a long time, a very long time, since that long-ago mission to Terra Nova. Malcolm had been injured and taken prisoner, and she'd worried for his safety like everyone else. It was only later she'd realized that it hadn't been like everyone else.

_Why is she asking me this? _Nhori still waited for an answer, so she replied, "Sometimes it does, but I wouldn't ask him to shirk his duty, _Ni'Chara_."

Nhori didn't smile, though her eyes held understanding. "You are a strong woman, _Ni'Chara. _Stronger than I ever could be." She smoothly changed the subject, like a politician's wife. "It looks like Sorcha began to do your hair. Let me decorate it as befits a _Kv'ohraiya_. When we are finished, I'll refresh your memory of the aim of today's talks."

Hoshi nodded eagerly. Nhori twisted her hair and secured it with smooth silver ties, then attached charms of ruby teardrops and flowers. She regarded her at arm's length, then nodded in approval. "There, even your _Kv'ohraiy _will find you stunning. Come, let me show you..."

Nhori accessed the computer terminal. Her screen split into four columns with different sets of characters in each column. Four different languages: Trianarian government dialect, Orion, Risan, and Klingon. Again, the translations were off from each other; a wrong word here, an awkward construction there. Hoshi automatically noted where there could be the potential for misunderstanding. Economic agreements, government proclamations, bureaucratic legalese...Hoshi grew more concerned as she reached the end of the files. The chance for an interstellar incident due to a single wrong word was very high. She couldn't allow that.

Gavva knew what she was trained for, so that was what he had set up for her. Hoshi understood that now and she felt a thrill of pleasure at the honor given to her. _This_ was why she had chosen a life among the stars, so she could help different races understand each other and work towards a common good.

"Can you make corrections so we can give a revised agenda to all the delegates?" Nhori asked her. "It would make the talks go much smoother."

"Of course. I'll get started on it right away."

Soon she was engrossed in her work, so engrossed that she didn't notice Sorcha's return, or the hiss of the hypospray that Nhori placed upon her neck. She didn't see the gleam of triumph in Nhori's eyes or the answering sparkle in Sorcha's. All that mattered was the words on the screen and the intricate puzzles she needed to solve before they became problems.

* * *

"_Ach, um Gottes Willen! Hast du 'ne Meise?!_" Bernhard Mueller eyed the array of costumes that the quartermaster presented the members of the rescue party. Master Chief Antoine Desgauld rolled his eyes in exasperation, then looked over at Trip Tucker with a pleading expression.

"Sorry, Bernhard, but this is the best way to get the team down there without being detected." Trip tried not to laugh at the Bavarian's look of complete dismay. "The Saurians have agreed to allow you to act as security for their negotiating party, so you gotta dress the part."

Mueller muttered more choice German expletives under his breath, but he chose the least obnoxious of the costumes...which unfortunately, wasn't saying much. Bright salmon and periwinkle weren't his colors, especially with the modified phase rifle encrusted with rubies, emeralds, sapphires and God knew what else. Maybe it was the wide golden collar, the matching ringlet for his brow, and the thin rush sandals.

_Or the pinky and toe rings? _Trip stifled his laughter, for his disguise wasn't much better. The electric blue cloak, tunic and leggings wouldn't have been too awful, if someone hadn't splattered the fabric randomly with sparkling pink paint. A thin, green scarf covered his mouth and combined with the hood of the cloak, gave Trip an aura of "Don't mess with me...I'm a fashion disaster."

"At least T'Pol doesn't look too bad," Trip said with a shrug. "She gets to look like a diva."

Bernhard gave him a look of disbelief. "Vulcan women do not act like divas."

"No, but then again, no one would suspect her as bein' a Vulcan, as long as she keeps her hood up over her ears." Trip sighed and regarded his costume. "All right, meet in the Shuttle Bay in twenty minutes, Bernhard. Let's get the Captain, the Lieutenant and Hoshi back."

"_Jawohl," _Bernhard said, with a touch of resignation as he left the Armory. Trip watched him go with a bemused shake of his head. He tried to stay optimistic, but a dark mood threatened to creep back upon him. Admiral Gardner had endorsed their plan to rescue the Captain and the others from Prefect Gavva, when Trip had explained the situation.

* * *

"Half of the known species in the sector want a cut of the keracite profits, Commander. Gavva's been setting this up and playing them against each other for decades. Starfleet Intelligence thinks that could tip the balance of power in Trianara's favor rather quickly."

Trip shook his head in frustration. "And why would he stage an attack on his own people?"

"To gather sympathy, to show how generous and kind he is, and to eliminate the moderate faction in his government, as well as to pull Starfleet and the Kikuron Rescue Group into the conflict. These secret trade talks are supposed to seal the deal between Trianara, the Orion Syndicate, and other ambitious groups. If they're successful, it would force Earth to negotiate on their terms, to keep them from becoming too powerful."

Trip sighed and shook his head. "Ingenious plan."

"As I said, in the works for _ decades_, coming into fruition right under Intelligence's nose. We were only tipped off by independent sources fairly recently, which was why I talked with Jon Archer about the possibility of an agreement with the Trianarians. He wasn't too happy with it, but...it was the best of many poor options, Commander." Gardner sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Get our people back, Commander, and expose Gavva for the creep he is. Starfleet Command, out."

* * *

As Trip dressed in the tunic and cloak, he shook his own head. _Expose Gavva for the creep he is. Easier said than done. And independent sources...I wonder what kind of sources he's talkin' about?_

His intercom went off. "This is your five minute ticker, Commander," came Travis Mayweather's voice.

He nodded and replied, "Thanks, Travis. Meet you in the shuttle bay."

"Aye, sir."

Trip wondered briefly what kind of get-up they'd stuck Travis in, then chuckled to himself. He'd find out soon enough about Travis's and T'Pol's...and hoped he could keep a straight face.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't make money off 'em.**

**Notes: What's happened to Malcolm and Captain Archer? You'll find out. And the rescue team has a rather unorthodox plan to extricate our heroes out of the mess they're in...and in the process, Malcolm comes to some rather startling conclusions about his own feelings. BTW, T'Pol had been in the Vulcan Security Ministry. It makes sense that she'd been on undercover missions before and can act the part to throw off any suspicion. **

**Language translation (German, Bernhard and Hoshi): **_**"Verzeihung, Fraeulein, aber bitte, kriegt es nicht in die falsche Kehle. Nichts fuer ungut."(**_**Sorry, Miss, but please don't take this the wrong way. No harm meant.") "**_**Du hast die Stern**_**. **_**Du riskiert Kopf und Kragen, verstehst du?"**_**(You have some nerve/You've got some cheek. You're risking your neck, you're aware of that?) **_**"Er wird mir nichts toedliches gemacht, Liebchen. Nicht so, hoffentlich."**_** (He won't kill me, love. At least, I hope not.")**

**Brief spoiler for Season 1, "Shuttlepod One" and a "blink and you miss it" reference to my story, "Reed's Raiders." Anyone following the Enterprise RPG on Twitter might catch another inside joke. And there's Saurian Brandy. **

**R/S and TnT**

**Please R&R. Not too many chapters after this. :-)**

**

* * *

**

**Seven**

Malcolm had learned early in his life to trust his instincts. Sometimes that meant not believing everything he saw or heard, and that tendency had saved him more than once. Many people interpreted his caution as mere standoffishness or hostility. He told himself he was there to do his job, not to be liked.

It was that facade that gave him the opportunity to think of a plan to get himself, Captain Archer and Hoshi out of here and back to _Enterprise_. None of the Trianarians suspected a thing as he leaned casually against a doorway and watched Archer talk with one of the "trade delgates". An Orion male regarded him with a suspicious eye; he merely turned and met the man's stare with his own. The Orion flushed, averted his eyes, and found other prey elsewhere.

Malcolm smirked inwardly. _Of course, I might be overplaying the "deadly bodyguard/assassin" act somewhat, but at least they're leaving me alone. _He watched as one of the Trianarian medics approach him with a hypospray. The poor man hesitated before finally whispering his question.

"Are you feeling faint, _Kv'ohraiy_ Reed? Do you require a tri-ox supplement?"

He only regarded the medic with cool disdain. "I am fine."

The medic bowed quickly and left him alone. Malcolm resumed his watch on Captain Archer, who was now chatting with one of Prefect Gavva's councilors. He narrowed his eyes as Archer laughed at some witty remark and clapped his hand on the councilor's shoulder as if the two were old friends. Agent Daniels had mentioned a "Federation" of the future, and Archer's role in it, and Malcolm admitted that the captain would be a superb politician.

_If we were really here to foster good relations, he would be highly successful right now. _Malcolm suppressed a sigh of frustration. When he and Archer had woken up in a guest room of Gavva's mountain retreat, several "delegates" had tried to convince them that they were here on Starfleet's behalf, to observe and moderate the "trade talks" held on Trianara. Archer had been skeptical, until one of Gavva's medics had gotten him with a hypospray of "tri-oxygen." After that, the captain seemed to accept the fiction of their new "mission."

They had also given Malcolm a dose of the same medication, but to his surprise and relief, it had no effect on him. He was clear-headed and well aware of their treachery. Yet he had played along and pretended to be overly protective of Captain Archer...which wasn't any different from what he'd been doing for the past five years. Every morsel of food and drop of drink had to pass his inspection, which annoyed Archer to no end, but Malcolm insisted on doing his job.

And that job mainly involved silently watching everyone in the room. His cold expression kept the curious onlookers at bay. Prefect Gavva avoided him, but Malcolm knew that Gavva kept a close eye on him in particular.

_Why did the "tri-oxygen" affected the Captain, but not me? _He wondered about that, and hoped against hope that they hadn't done the same with Hoshi. Gavva told Archer that Hoshi was arriving momentarily, but where was she? He found himself worrying more about her with every passing second.

Then she was there, as if she had materialized out of his thoughts. She was chatting with a second Councilor, her bright smile free from any cares or worries. Malcolm's heart sank like a stone; whatever they had drugged Archer with had also affected Hoshi. An older Trianarian woman and an Orion shadowed her like two guardians, their sharp eyes watching her like a hawk. Malcolm revised his escape plan in his mind; this new complication made it more difficult to get his crewmates out of here.

The Trianarian woman gazed at him for a long moment, then she touched the Orion's arm and murmured something in a low voice. The Orion nodded, smoothly interrupted Hoshi's conversation, and whispered in Hoshi's ear. Hoshi's head came up and she spotted Malcolm and a soft smile came over her face. His heart skipped a beat at the unguarded emotion he saw there.

_That cannot be...it's impossible that she would--- _He didn't finish the thought, for Hoshi nodded at the Councilor and walked towards him. Before he could react, she had wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss, deep and full of promise.

_God... _For once in his life, he didn't care they were in full view of delegates from six different races. He slid his arms around her and kissed her back. Even if this was a result of some crazy mind-control, he was determined to treasure this moment for as long as it lasted.

"So, this is your_Kv'ohraiy_, Hoshi?" asked the Orion woman.

Hoshi broke the kiss and smiled up at him, her eyes shining. Despite himself, he felt the corners of his mouth turn upward in response._ So much for the deadly assassin facade, _he thought dryly.

"Yes. Malcolm, this is Sorcha. She's been showing me around and introducing me to the others. And this is Lady Nhori, Prefect Gavva's mother."

His eyes widened as he regarded the older woman, and he immediately saw the family resemblance to Gavva. Nhori extended a hand; he bent over it like a gentleman to hide his surprise. "Ni'Chara. Lady," he murmured.

"You have chosen your mate well, Hoshi. Respectful and devoted. If I were younger, I would be envious of you." Nhori smiled to take the sting out of her words. "My husband needs a bodyguard as well as a translator. Would you be interested in a change of employment?"

Hoshi translated Nhori's question. It took him a considerable amount of self-control to keep the anger from his face, but he only replied, "I am subject to the orders of my captain and my superiors, Milady."

"Then I shall consult with Captain Archer after the conference is finished. Far be it for me to separate you from your_Kv'ohraiya_." Nhori glanced at him, then at Hoshi, and added, "Any children you would have would be stunning."

Malcolm bit his tongue even as Hoshi flushed crimson to her hairline. Her blush was an interesting contrast to the orange gown she wore. He deliberately ignored how well it fitted her, though he knew he'd probably pay for that later.._.Don't be such a cad, Malcolm Reed. She is a friend and a subordinate officer. _Another part of his mind mocked him,_ Who are you trying to delude, you stupid git?_

Loud voices echoed from the hallway and drew the delegates' attention. Malcolm frowned as one of the Trianarian councilors strode in with a harried expression and whispered something to Gavva. The prefect rolled his eyes in two different directions, then nodded, He plastered an overly fake smile on his face and crossed to the door. A moment later, a six-foot tall Human/lizard hybrid in an elaborate robe slithered into the room. Malcolm's eyes widened in surprise at the sight. _What the bloody hell is that?_

"The Chieftain of the Saurian Confederacy offers his utmost greetings to the Prefect of Trianara," the being said, with only a trace of a lisp."Visarr brings his own greetings from his House and is honored to be present here."

Gavva nodded gravely as Hoshi interpreted the words and he replied, "The Prefect of Trianara is honored by Visarr's presence and that the Chieftain of the Saurian Confederacy has seen fit to give him that honor. Would Visarr like to partake of the refreshments before the start of the trade talks?"

The Saurian bobbed his head in approval. "Visarr would like to offer his own gift to the Prefect of Trianaria and to the Captain of Starfleet." He extended diamond-tipped claws at the Human bodyguard at the door, who came forward with two brown-colored glass bottles. Gavva's mouth turned upward into a smile.

"Saurian brandy. Of course, we would be willing to partake in a glass or two of such a fine beverage." Gavva accepted his bottle, then inclined his head at Archer. "The captain is there, if you can get past his protector. I believe he may have Vulcan blood, for all the emotion he shows."

Visarr waved a dismissive hand. "Perhaps we can wager a bet, Prefect of Trianara. Visarr's bodyguard against the Captain of Starfleet's protector. Whom would you believe would be victorious in a battle?"

"You would be willing to provide that sort of entertainment at the conclusion of the talks?"

"Why not? If Visarr's man wins, Visarr reserves the right to a larger share of the total profits from the keracite. If the Captain of Starfleet's man wins, both the Prefect of Trianara and the Captain of Starfleet gains a significant share of earnings from the trading of brandy." Visarr waggled his brow ridges at the bottle in Gavva's hands. "Tempting, yes?"

A slow smirk came across Gavva's face. "Assassin versus assassin, then? To the death?"

"On such a historic occasion? Wounded only. Cannot afford to turn the gullets of the weak, correct?"

Malcolm allowed himself a slight smile, for he recognized Visarr's "bodyguard." It took him a hefty amount of his self-control to not laugh at Bernhard Mueller's ridiculous wardrobe. The rather peeved expression on Bernhard's face was most probably not faked at all. The Bavarian positively glowered at him with a look that said, _The humiliations I put myself through to save your arse, Herr Kommandant. You owe me for this one._

Malcolm bit off a chuckle and thought, _Indeed I do, Bernhard. I am aware that your covert missions for the past two years seem to involve unsightly constumes. _Discretion was the better part of valor, though, and he narrowed his eyes as if assessing his enemy's strengths and weaknesses. For his part, Bernhard returned a humorless smile.

A cool voice interjected, "'Gullets of the _weak_? I resent your implication of our constitution, Visarr. You promised us a grand showing of our joint wealth. Do not dare deny us what we are entitled---"

Visarr waved a hand at the woman who stood just within the doorway. Hazel-amber eyes glared balefully at him as the prominent reptilian brow ridge wrinkled in disgust. Her mouth was turned down in a sneer that Malcolm had never seen before. The royal purple hood hid her ears, but he would know those eyes anywhere.

Visarr made another disparaging gesture at her. "Patience, dear. Business before pleasure, you know that. What say you, Trader? Would you enjoy such a display?"

A silent man stepped into the room and halted next to the hooded woman, who was now sulking at Visarr's dismissal. Malcolm looked into the blue eyes and resisted another grin as he shrugged at Visarr in a careless manner that clearly said, _I don't give a rat's ass what you do, as long as you give me a front row seat. _Visarr gurgled in laughter and turned back to Gavva. As the Saurian distracted everyone's attention, the Trader gave Malcolm a slow but deliberate wink.

_Figures that Trip would be in charge of this rescue. He probably raided his closet for the disguises._

Gavva turned slightly to Malcolm. "What say you, _Kv'ohraiy? _Are you up to the challenge?"

Archer frowned at Bernhard, as if searching his memory on where he'd seen the Armory man before, but there was no sign of recognition. Malcolm nodded and thickened his accent as he answered, "Very well, then. Wounded only, but only because his master wishes it."

"Very well...business before pleasure, then." Gavva turned to his mother. "_Maaaman_, will you please escort the delegates to the confernce room, Let us get started on these talks without further delay. The sooner we reach an agreement, the sooner we can enjoy the...entertainment."

Nhori smiled and replied, "I would be happy, my son. Hoshi, if you would assist me?"

Hoshi nodded. She kissed Malcolm on the cheek and whispered, "I'll see you later."

"Of course," he murmured.

She left his side and went among the delegates. She, Nhori and Sorcha began herding everyone toward the door. Malcolm stepped out of the flow of the crowd and watched the various races pass him. It was ironic that this show of "solidarity" was motivated by pure greed instead of a genuine interest in working together. If Captain Archer and Hoshi knew the truth, neither would willing participate in this farce. It was their good natures and "treacly optimism" that allowed the Trianarians to control their minds.

_What does that say about myself? M_alcolm shoved the uncomfortable thought to a deep corner of his mind. He didn't have the time to wonder about that; the answer unnerved him more than he cared to admit.

He heard a shrill voice over his shoulder and turned to see Commander T'Pol haranguing Captain Archer with a steady stream of chatter and complaints. Malcolm raised an eyebrow at her perfect acting ability; no one would even think that she was actually a calm, rational Vulcan under that disguise. Archer, for his part, looked down at her with a strange expression of tolerant amusement and dawning comprehension. The captain narrowed his eyes at her with another expression that Malcolm knew very well.

_Don't try my patience, Commander. _It reminded Malcolm of their first year on Enterprise, when Archer and T'Pol had their differences of opinion on how to explore the galaxy. The false cheer in Archer's face vanished for a split second, then his green eyes lit up in understanding.

"Will you permit me to escort you, Milady?" he asked her, gallantly offering her an arm. "I'm sure you and I have some issues to discuss."

T'Pol stopped mid-rant, sighed, rolled her eyes as Malcolm had seen Trip do on occasion, and reluctantly took Archer's arm. Together, they followed the other delegates. Trip appeared on Malcolm's far side and Malcolm heard his words.

"We got a plan to get evidence and then get you guys out of here," Trip told him in a low voice. "Watch Bernhard; he'll give you a signal and when you see it, act accordingly. We'll take care of the rest."

"What kind of signal?"

Malcolm couldn't see Trip's mouth, but he swore he saw the engineer smirk. "You'll know when you see it."

He sighed and resigned himself to fate. What in the world was the rescue team up to? He was about to find out.

* * *

The trade talks began just as Malcolm expected: plenty of heated words, disagreements, miscommunications, and self-serving posturing. Malcolm watched from his position behind Archer's shoulder; T'Pol sat on Archer's other side, and Trip next to her. Bernhard stood behind Visarr, and another familiar face guarded another Saurian representative. Travis Mayweather nodded at Malcolm, crossed his arms, and played his role as bodyguard to the hilt. As the discussions dragged on, Travis leaned forward and whispered into Visarr's ear.

"And what about the transport routes from Somai to Arcturus Prime? That skirts dangerously close to the Klingon border; what kind of protection can the Trianarian governnment guarantee the Chieftain of the Saurian Confederacy? Or Starfleet? Or the Orion Syndicate? The Prefect of Trianara must admit that specific route cannot be overlooked."

Malcolm nodded in approval. Travis, with his knowledge of the Boomer routes, was coaching Visarr on what to say. Then Hoshi turned from where she sat next to Gavva and translated Visarr's questions. Her brow wrinkled in concentration, but she was definitely within her element. Again, Malcolm marveled at her ability to slip in and out of several languages at once, without missing a single beat.

T'Pol affected a bored expression and brought out a cosmetic mirror. Malcolm guessed it was a recording device; she captured the images of every person at these "talks" and every word said. Gavva's security cameras also recorded the proceedings. _F__or blackmail purposes_, Malcolm thought sourly.

Finally, Gavva called for a brief recess. The delegates rose up from their seats. Hoshi got to her feet and headed in Malcolm's direction...

Bernhard moved so fast that Malcolm wasn't expecting it. Bernhard stepped in front of Hoshi, wrapped an arm around her waist, and dipped her into a passionate kiss for all to see. Hoshi managed a choked exclamation, her dark eyes wide with surprise. Malcolm scowled at the sight; although he knew it was all an act, he suddenly had the primal urge to smack his second-in-command. His face flushed as he realized that the rush of emotion was genuine.

_Bloody hell. What has come over me? Hoshi is her own woman; I don't lay any claim to her..._Malcolm mentally kicked himself._ Right, and who are you kidding, you sodding idiot?_

Bernhard finally straightened and eased Hoshi back on her feet with the feather-light touch of a Prussian gentleman. Unfortunately, Hoshi's reaction was less than amorous. Malcolm heard the crack as she slapped him, hard, and couldn't help but wince. Yes, his Hoshi was quite the spitfire...

_Wait a minute. _My_ Hoshi??_

For his part, Bernhard only grinned as he touched his cheek, which by this time was red from where she'd slapped him. _"Verzeihung, Fraeulein, aber bitte, kriegt es nicht in die falsche Kehle. Nichts fuer ungut."_

Hoshi stared at him, then Malcolm saw she was torn between laughing and ripping Bernhard's head off. He saw _her, _the real Hoshi, unaffected by any mind-altering drugs, then she glared up at Bernhard with righteous indignation. "_Du hast die Stern,_" she replied coldly. "_Du riskiert Kopf und Kragen, verstehst du?"_

"_Er wird mir nichts toedliches gemacht, Liebchen. Nicht so, hoffentlich_." Bernhard laughed again and rolled his eyes at her. Then he glanced at Malcolm and the humor vanished as quickly as it had come.

Malcolm swore and headed towards him, only to be held back by Captain Archer and Trip. "He dares to touch her," he growled in a low voice. "Prefect Gavva, allow me to teach this..._man_ a lesson."

Hoshi translated his threat, putting as much indignation at the words as she could muster. Of course, Gavva and the others had never heard German before; they assumed it was yet another language of the traders. Gavva smirked and nicked his head toward the doors. As Malcolm made his way through the crowd, he could hear Trianarians and non-Trianarians alike taking bets on the outcome of the "fight". He glared at Bernhard; the Bavarian only regarded him with a dismissive shrug of his shoulders, but Malcolm saw the twinkle in his eye.

Yes, they were going to give them one hell of a show, one that Gavva wouldn't likely forget.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't make money off 'em.**

**Notes: Quite a lot happens in this chapter. The calvalry comes to the rescue. Sort of.**

**There's a bit of mental communication between Trip and T'Pol, via their bond. Those conversations are in bold. Language translation: German, Bernhard: "_Verdammt noch schoen!_ " (Pretty obvious). "_Du wirst nicht allein gehen. Wasser hat Dir gar nicht gern." (You aren't going alone. Water really doesn't like you (or Water and you don't mix). _Part of this came really close to being a DMM chapter, but I've got another tale for that in the works. **

**Spoilers: ENT "Bounty" and "Exile".**

**Rating: T for language.**

**Please R&R. Thanks.

* * *

**

**Eight**

It took all of Trip's self-control not to burst out laughing at Bernhard's antics. The whole set-up had been Travis's idea, with some judicious help from Bernhard and the Armory team. Malcolm's reaction had only confirmed what they'd all suspected for quite some time. Trip felt the not-completely-feigned anger coursing through Malcolm's body as he and Jonathan Archer held him back from pounding Bernhard into the floor. Jon gave Trip a look of amusement over Malcolm's head.

_Nope, the Cap'n is no dummy. Even he can see what's in front of his face, even if Malcolm can't, or won't. T'Pol sent a wordless thread of agreement; if that kiss Hoshi had given Malcolm any indication, the comm officer shared the same feelings for the armory officer._

**I believe it is that closeness that has counteracted the mind-altering drugs and the Orion pheromones.**

Trip blinked in surprise at his mate's observation. **What? Kinda like how our bond protected me when the Orions triplets were on the ship? But we've got a Vulcan bond and Malcolm and Hoshi aren't Vulcan. They aren't telepathic. **He hesitated, then asked**, Are they?**

It was T'Pol's turn to hesitate, then she replied, **Do you remember that incident in the Expanse with the exiled telepath, with whom Hoshi stayed for a time? **He nodded slightly; Malcolm had been close to unbearable to be around during that particular time. She went on, **It is quite possible Ensign Sato may have some latent telepathic ability, but she may be unaware of it.**

**Makes sense. **Trip narrowed his eyes as the huge crowd gathered around the marble pavilion just outside the doors. The Trianarian sun shone brilliantly down on them, with the rushing river far below. He made his way through the throng of people to where he could get a good view. Malcolm and Bernhard stood on opposite ends of the plaza, glaring at each other like two gunslingers at the final shootout.

"All's set, Commander," Travis murmured. Trip jumped; he hadn't heard the helmsman approach. "_Enterprise_ is waiting for Commander T'Pol's signal."

He nodded and asked, "How're you holdin' up, Travis?"

"I'm okay, sir." Travis sighed and wiped away a drop of sweat from his forehead. Despite the younger man's reassurance, Trip saw a faint gray sheen under Travis's dark skin. "The anti-phermonone is still working, though I don't think it'll be a good idea to stay here much longer."

"Yeah, I know." Timing was crucial for this operation; it had to be justright. Phlox did what he could at such short notice, but he warned the rescue team that a permanent counter to the pheromone was still far from widespread use. They needed to get out of here now.

He closed his eyes. **Darlin'? You hear that?**

**I did, indeed. I am directly behind Ensign Sato right now. **

**Careful. That old hag and that Orion are watching Hoshi like two maiden aunts.**

T'Pol's reply was dry.** I rather doubt they are concerned with Ensign Sato's virtue, T'hy'la.**

Trip bit his lip. No, probably not, judging from the old hag's calculating glances between Hoshi and Malcolm, as if she was already planning what to do with their offspring. The more Trip saw of the upper-class Trianarian society, the less he liked it.

There was a blur of activity as Malcolm threw a punch at Bernhard's head. Bernhard sidestepped it easily and countered with an elbow to his side, which Malcolm avoided. Although Bernhard had the distinct advantage of size and raw strength, Malcolm had the speed. Both men put their Armory crew through weekly combat drills, so they knew each other's moves.

T'Pol looked suitably impressed. Although she was familiar with many fighting styles, she seemed mesmerized by the two men's ability to come within inches of harming each other without actually causing too much damage. That definitely took skill.

_When Bernhard said they were gonna put on a show, he wasn't kidding,_ Trip thought. He winced as Malcolm's high kick came within inches of Bernhard's head, and it would have knocked the Bavarian on his ass, had it connected. Bernhard swerved at the last moment, and hooked his foot around Malcolm's ankle, jerking him off balance. Malcolm hit the ground, rolled, and bounced back on his feet. He deliberately wiped a thin trail of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and the crowd stirred with anticipation.

"There will be no mercy," Gavva murmured. Trip shuddered at the delight in the prefect's tone. "He will kill the one who dared touch her."

"No death," Visarr reminded him. "Not today."

"I agree with you, but I cannot say the same for _Kv'ohraiy _Reed. See the glint in his eyes? He is a killer."

"The Protector is an honorable man."

"One does not necessarily preclude the other. It is all a matter of circumstance."

Malcolm could probably kill someone with his own hands, but he followed a code of honor. That was the difference between Malcolm and someone like Gavva. He hid behind subterfuge and lies and caused death from a distance. Trip throttled down the urge to give the man a taste of his own medicine. _Situational ethics, my ass._

**He truly believes he can do no wrong,** T'Pol agreed. Her mental tone carried the disgust she would never say aloud.

Trip heard movement behind him and discreetly slipped Captain Archer a phase pistol from under his cloak. He knew that the rest of the Away Team was getting ready for the huge surprise. Archer moved right behind Gavva, but the Prefect didn't even notice as Bernhard's fist connected with Malcolm's stomach and Malcolm went down on one knee. The crowd gasped in fascinated horror; Trip swore he heard the rustle of credits changing hands.

"No!" Hoshi cried. She made a considerable effort to break away from the old hag's grip, but anyone who knew about her aikido skills saw her attempt to distance herself from Lady Nhori.

Malcolm remained kneeling in front of Bernhard, one hand on his stomach, the other hand out of Trip's view. Bernhard glowered at Malcolm for a several minutes, then he winked.

That was when all hell broke loose.

* * *

Hoshi twisted out of Nhori's hands as she heard the shouts from the back of the crowd. Sorcha grabbed her shoulder, but her aqua eyes abruptly rolled into the back of her head and she fell like a sack of potatoes. T'Pol calmly withdrew her hand from the neck pinch as she nodded at Hoshi.

"Commander T'Pol," she said, her voice full of relief. Hoshi spotted a flicker of amusement in the Vulcan's eyes and felt another blush on her cheeks. Everyone knew about her feelings for Malcolm now; that kiss she'd given him had surprised her more than him. She resigned herself to the inevitable teasing, but T'Pol, bless her, invoked the Vulcan sense of priority.

"Are you unharmed, Ensign?"

"Yes, thank goodness."

Hoshi sidestepped a shrieking Orion woman, grabbed her arm and redirected her into T'Pol's second nerve pinch. Hoshi didn't have time to breathe before a melee broke out between the delegates' bodyguards and _Enterprise_'s security teams. She and T'Pol had their hands full just avoiding the worst of the fighting. No one followed any sane rules; Hoshi wove, ducked and dispatched as many attackers as she could. She even bit a furry arm or two.

She'd lost sight of Malcolm, Bernhard and the others in the chaos. The hum of transporters signaled the arrival of more reinforcements from _Enterprise. _A few of the delegates managed to escape, but Hoshi didn't worry about that for now. She had other concerns at the moment.

A hand closed over her shoulder and jerked her off balance. A harsh voice shouted, "_Ve'kah'he uianiar, so'ha!"_ Green bands passed over her vision and her last thought was, _Oh no, not again...

* * *

_

"Sorry about that last hit, sir."

Malcolm grimaced and muttered, "You could have pulled back a little."

"It would not have been convincing enough---" Bernhard broke off as he stunned a Thakamir bodyguard who had been aiming for Commander Tucker. Trip looked over his shoulder, then nodded his thanks at Bernhard.

"I'm sure. And you complain I enjoy my job a little too much." He nodded as he saw a Saurian militia squad materialize behind a group of cowed delegates. "The Saurians are on our side, I see."

"Visarr is a Constable who's been after Gavva for a long time," Bernhard said. "He jumped at the chance to to help when we---_Verdammt noch schoen!"_

Malcolm saw a Trianarian transport beam whisk Hoshi away before anyone could stop it. Behind him, another beam swallowed up Gavva. At the last moment, Captain Archer grabbed the Prefect's arm, and he also disappeared.

"Bloody hell!" he shouted. "Gavva's escaped and Hoshi and the Captain are with him!"

T'Pol came up next to him, her hood down on her shoulders and her ears exposed. Her features were again cool and composed.. She pointed at the tracking device around Malcolm's arm. "We can track them, Lieutenant. We have modified the ship's sensors to detect Human life signs."

Visarr slithered up to Malcolm and bared his teeth. "The Prefect of Gavva tries to hide. We will find him, Protector."

"Glad to have you along, Constable," Malcolm said. "MacKenzie!"

"Here, sir!" Major Fiona MacKenzie answered. The MACO soldier gave him a quick salute.

"Take Corporal Money and DiAngelo and round up the Orions. Make sure you keep the women in a separate room away from the Security men." Malcolm saw MacKenzie's smirk and decided to ignore it. "One of the Trianarians is Prefect Gavva's mother."

"We'll take care of her, sir."

"On your way, Major." Mackenzie hurried off and joined Travis, who was already herding the delegates back into the mountain retreat. Malcolm looked over at T'Pol, who was consulting with Trip about the readouts on her scanner. "Commander?"

"_Enterprise_ to Commander Tucker."

Trip flipped open his communicator. "Tucker."

"Sir, we've got multiple ships trying to break orbit, but the Saurian ships are blockading most of them. We've disabled a Trianarian courier ship that tried to escape at high warp," reported Sergeant Nate Kemper.

Before Malcolm could panic, T'Pol shook her head. "There, on the other side of the river. I'm reading both Ensign Sato and Captain Archer, with Prefect Gavva."

"They are not on the Trianarian ship?" Trip asked her.

"I believe that ship is only a diversion."

Trip scowled and shook his head. "Probably, but better safe than sorry. Kemper, get a security team together and detain everyone on that courier people if you have to."

"Yes, sir. Doctor Phlox also requests permission to beam down and assist any injured."

"Tell him to go ahead. Oh, and tell the Kikuron Rescue Group that they might be able to return to the surface soon to resume humanitarian efforts once we get things settled down here."

"They'll be happy to hear that, sir. Kemper, out."

"Tucker, out." He snapped his communicator closed and shoved it back into a pocket. "I've gotta get back up to the ship. We've got practically the entire senior staff down here and someone's gotta sort all the headaches up there. T'Pol, you stay down here and help Malcolm with the search."

She nodded, accepting his order despite the fact she outranked him. "Ensign Mayweather may be helpful in calming some of the traders."

"Good idea; I'll take Travis with me." He nodded at Malcolm; it was obvious from Trip's expression that he wanted to stay, but someone had to return to _Enterprise. _"Get them back, Lieutenant."

"Aye, sir, we will." Malcolm traded a salute with both Bernhard and Constable Visarr, and they followed T'Pol down a steep staircase that led from the pavilion, down to the cliff to the banks of the river. He grabbed the railing and carefully followed it. One misstep could be his last, for the stairs were as slippery as Andorian ice.

"There is a bridge fifty meters in that direction that will take us to the other side," T'Pol told him. She had to shout to be heard over the river.

Visarr muttered something under his breath in his native tongue and glared balefully at the swift current. "My people are not fond of fast-rising, bone-chilling liquid. Even the Ones who distill the Waters of Life do not venture out into the river themselves."

Malcolm felt a smile tug on his lips despite the situation. For some reason, the fact that Visarr disliked the water as much as he did made him feel a little better. "The ones who make the Saurian brandy, you mean."

"I will offer you and your mate a whole case's worth, when we finally apprehend the Prefect of Trianara." Visarr bared his teeth and added, "And I would be honored to share a glass or two with you, Protector."

"I look forward to it, Constable."

The bridge loomed large ahead: a sturdy wooden structure that was wide enough for two people to walk abreast. It hung several feet above the raging river, but as Malcolm watched, the occasional surge spilled over the open railing and splashed against the walkway.

"The water's rising. We must get to the other side quickly."

"Can't we just transport to the other side?" Bernhard asked.

T'Pol shook her head. "The rock formations around us make transporter locks difficult. We were able to beam in the security teams only because the pavilion was high above the mountain valley."

"Ach. This just had to get more difficult, _nicht wahr?_"

Malcolm shook his head. "We don't have a choice, Bernhard. The bridge it is, then. Watch your step, everybody."

Visarr clambered up the bridge steps, using his claws for traction. "Protector, I should cross first and secure the opposite side. The Prefect of Trianara would know we are in pursuit."

"It would be safer in pairs," Bernhard added.

Malcolm nodded; he liked Visarr's tactical thinking. "All right. Commander T'Pol, follow Constable Visarr. Bernhard, we will be rearguard."

"_Jawohl_," Bernhard agreed, then muttered under his breath, "_Du wirst nicht allein gehen. Wasser hat Dir gar nicht gern."_

Visarr cautiously made his way across the bridge. Malcolm caught a glimpse of the unease in T'Pol's eyes; Vulcan was a desert planet and the prospect of taking an unscheduled swim in an icy river was hardly appealing. She kept a firm grip on the railing, even as the misty spray soaked them both.

"Our turn," Malcolm said in a low voice.

"Yes, sir."

He took a deep breath and gripped the railing. The thunder of the rushing water reverberated all around them, magnified by the walls of the valley. He resolutely concentrated on just putting one foot ahead of the other. One hundred meters. Fifty. Twenty-five. The wood creaked as the swells pounded against it. An unexpected wave hit the bridge and doused him from head to foot. He grabbed the railing with one hand and steadied Bernhard with the other.

_Concentrate! Hoshi needs you! You need to get to the other side to save her, so get going!_

By the time they reached the opposite bank, his teeth was chattering so much it made his jaw ache. Bernhard wasn't much better; he looked like a giant drowned rat. Malcolm thought sourly,_ As long as none of us catch pneumonia, we should be all right. _Aloud, he called, "Constable? Commander?"

"I am here, Protector," Visarr called back. He poked his long reptilian snout from the foliage and underbrush. "There is a path cut deep behind this ridge."

"The lifesigns are also in that direction, Lieutenant," added T'Pol.

Malcolm traded glances with Bernhard. "Let's go find them."


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't make money off 'em.**

**Notes: We're on the homestretch, I'm seeing maybe 2 chapters after this one. Don't worry, Gavva will get what's coming to him. Soon.**

**Warning: Off-screen torture (not any of our heroes, though.)**

**Language Translations (German, Bernhard Mueller: "_Achtung, Liebchen! Dahinter!" _Watch out, behind you!" Liebchen means "Dear or love" as a term of endearment.)**

**Rating: T**

**Pairing: R/S**

**Please R&R

* * *

**

**Nine**

"_Gassa, gassa, ne! D'hai li 'e ren'di bvai!" _

The scream jolted her back to reality, but it took several seconds before the words made sense. _Please, please, no! I will do anything you want! _She tried to move, but her muscles refused to obey her. The voices echoed as if she was in a cavern, angry and distorted.

"_Bkah'ru d'vahr?" _Where are they hiding?

"_Gassam nu'vai 'e!" _Please_, _I don't know!

"_Vai'di." _You do know.

"_Ne, ne, oranv 'e!" _No, no, I swear!

The voices finally faded into silence. Hoshi's heart pounded as she went over what she had just heard. The dialect was not of the government caste, but the medical caste, which had thrown her off for a moment. The elegant, ringing tones were completely at odds with the harsh words of interrogation. No physician she knew would use such manner, which meant the inquisitor was not a medical practitioner.

_Then who was it? Someone who is versed in more than one dialect. That's relatively rare, and those who can do that are highly sought after. _Hoshi shivered; that was why Gavva had kidnapped her in the first place. He wanted her as his personal translator for multiple languages.

_Someone was hiding from the medical caste? Who was it?_ Hoshi thought back to her time spent in the Trianarian camps with the Kikuron Rescue Group. The medical caste was charging exorbirant sums of money to treat the people they were obligated to do so anyway. The KRG had some sort of agreement to subsidize the payment, so patients could be treated. The anger at this injustice cleared the cobwebs from her mind. Something must have happened to negate that agreement...

She opened her eyes to find herself in a large, oval-shaped chamber. Hoshi glanced around at the various bottles in their niches and at the wooden kegs stacked along the walls. _I'm in a wine cellar of some sort,_ she thought. The cost of the vintage drinks here could buy enough medicine to help a small village.

A soft breeze touched her face; she closed her eyes and tried to locate where it came from. The sound of rushing water echoed through the cavern; she must be very close to the river, if not directly on its shores. Hoshi wondered if there was a distillery nearby and thought, _Trip and Malcolm would love to find out, if this was just a friendly visit, which it isn't._

Prefect Gavva came into Hoshi's view and she automatically shrank back from the touch of madness in his features. He chuckled and knelt until her face was mere centimeters from hers. "I should have known that the drugs wouldn't affect your _Kv'ohraiy; _his will is too strong to be overcome by mere...herbal concoctions. You, on the other hand, are more susceptible, more pliant. It will be a challenge to break your spirit while keeping your talents intact."

"They already know you're running, Gavva," she hissed through clenched teeth. "You won't get away with this. Malcolm will track you down and he will find you."

Gavva's eyes glittered in the dim light as he touched her at the center of her forehead, in the exact spot where the Xindi had injected the neural parasite a few years before. Phlox's ministrations had removed the scar, but not the memories. She steeled herself not to flinch at the coldness of his skin.

He glanced over his shoulder at someone just out of her visual range. Then he spoke in the dialect of the medical caste. "Make sure Doctor Ehlann adjusts the sedative before he administers it to her. I would not want anything untoward to happen."

A woman stepped out of the shadows, her eyes flashing with saw the family resemblance to Gavva and Lady Nhori and surmised that this was yet another member of his clan. A sister, perhaps? She replied to Gavva in the same dialect.

"You mean to the woman, not to her captain."

"Of course, I mean the woman. She is important to our ultimate goal, _I'sha'ra_. You know that."

_I'sha'ra? _Hoshi thought. _Sister? His sister is a medic? _It actually made sense, if his mother had been one as well. So that was how Gavva controlled the medical caste and its hard-hearted policies.

"And the Starfleet captain?"

Gavva made a gesture of dismissal. "He is still of use to us, Kaori. A bargaining chip, if anything else, to his weak-willed government." He glanced at Hoshi, whose eyes widened in horror. "Yes, your captain is an impetuous fool, who tried to stop me. I assure you, he will be dealt with at a later time."

Kaori glared at Hoshi, then said, "Have a care, my brother. This latest obsession of yours is dangerous. You do know that she belongs to another. The darker-haired one, her _Kv'ohraiy. _If you take it too far, he will kill you. I see it in his eyes."

Gavva smirked. "He will not harm me as long as I have her under my control. You see, _I'sha'ra_, they will not cause me any trouble."

"Your confidence is overwhelming, _nai'sgho, _and your pride."

"I do believe I inherited it honestly," Gavva answered mildly. "_You_ have a care, _I'sha'ra_. The legacy of our family and our planet rests on what happens the next few cycles."

"_Your _legacy, you mean." She brought herself up to her full height, which made her even with Gavva's shoulder. "Very well, then."

He hesitated, then shrugged. "I know you will. I hope to see both of you within two _nejaa_."

"And her captain?"

"She will see him, as we board our vessel, to ensure her cooperation." Gavva nodded at her briskly, then retreated up the stairs and through the door. The abrupt slam sounded more like a punctuation mark than anything else.

The woman stiffened, then turned to face Hoshi. Her wide aqua eyes met Hoshi's and her hand automatically went to an ornate dagger belted around her waist. Hoshi kept herself still as the woman appraised and judged her in a matter of moments.

"I am sorry, _Kv'ohraiya_. He has many tools at his disposal to break his enemies. That is how he has kept his power for so long." Kaori took a deep breath, her shoulders slumped. "If I disobey, he will go after my mate and my family, and my patients. I cannot risk their safety."

Hoshi sighed and shook her head slightly. It was the only part of her body that she could move. "I'm sorry, Kaori. I've seen him at work. He is a monster."

Her eyes hardened and Hoshi was suddenly afraid that Kaori would be angry, but the medic only laughed harshly and agreed, "And as he said, he inherited that honestly. I wish there was something more I could do, _Kv'ohraiya_."

"I understand." Hoshi did understand, but it didn't lessen her anger and frustration at being so helpless. Another piercing cry through the cavern made her jump involuntarily; Kaori's head snapped up and she gazed behind her into the darkness. She bit her lip at the icy demand as it echoed off the walls.

"_Bkah'ru d'vahr?" _Where are they hiding? "_Bkah'ru ta'sel d'vahr?" _Where are the sick ones hiding?

"_Gassa, gassa, ne!" _Please, please no!

"_Vai'di." _ You do know. "_Bkah'ru ta'sel d'vahr?" _

A flash of indecision passed across Kaori's face, then she set her jaw and narrowed her eyes. With one smooth movement, she stepped over to Hoshi's side and jabbed her arm with a hypospray. Hoshi couldn't have stopped her even if she'd tried. Almost instantly, feeling flowed back into her limbs and she could move again.

"Come, I will take you to your captain. Then you must flee and never return." Kaori pulled her to her feet. "I will assume the responsibility that I should have many cycles ago."

"But---"

"There is no time! Gavva will come back for you, and our people will suffer the consequences of his actions." Kaori dragged her along; _dragged _was the operative word, for Hoshi's feet weren't working quite well yet and it was all she could do to keep up.

* * *

Malcolm sensed the guards before he heard them. By the time the Trianarians spotted the rescue team, he and Bernhard were already firing their phase rifles. Unconscious bodies hit the cavern floor. T'Pol glanced at her scanner and jerked her head to the right. Silently, they entered the right-hand tunnel.

It opened out into a large storage area, with crates piled as high as the ceiling. Malcolm ducked behind a wall of boxes and signaled for Bernhard and the others to take up positions nearby. T'Pol raised a hand as voices floated past them. Malcolm couldn't understand the dialect. _Hoshi would_, he thought, and forced himself to concentrate on the present.

The sounds of weeping came closer. Malcolm couldn't see anything from his vantage point, but Bernhard and Visarr did. Judging from Bernhard's stony expression and Visarr's bared teeth, the sight wasn't pleasant. Bernhard met his superior's gaze, his eyes angry and his jaw clenched.

Two Trianarian guards came into view, dragging a man dressed in a rumpled medical smock between them. Visarr jumped out, swung his massive tail and knocked the guards aside like tenpins. He snarled as he attacked the nearest one, while Bernhard tackled the second guard to the floor. T'Pol immediately went to the aid of the fallen medic.

"He has internal injuries, Lieutenant."

"They tortured him," Visarr hissed.

The medic managed to grab T'Pol sleeve. Malcolm supported him as he whispered something in a low voice; "Gavva..._shi'yui de lah'ghu ta Kv'ohraiya, ta En'rhaivy..."_ Malcolm understood "Gavva", "Kv'ohraiya" was Hoshi, and "En'rhaivy" meant "superior officer of the military caste". Archer.

"Where are they?" Malcolm growled.

The medic understood the request, if not the words. He gestured toward T'Pol's scanner and when she gave it to him, touched a portion of the screen. "_Vehi'bi_."

T'Pol nodded and said, "I will contact _Enterprise_ and ask for assistance."

Malcolm nodded, then looked at Bernhard and Visarr. "Let's get him, gentlemen."

* * *

Hoshi's coordination improved as she and Kaori navigated through the caverns. The roar of the river grew louder, its rush almost overwhelming Hoshi's sensitive hearing. Then Kaori took an abrupt right turn that led them deeper into the stone formations and away from the river. The chaotic din became more tolerable and Hoshi could think again.

Another turn and Hoshi stepped into another large cavern. Several pairs of terrified eyes hit her and hands reached for whatever could be used as a weapon: hyposprays, fieldkits, and even a portable generator. A familiar face cried out, "No, stop! I know her! She's all right!"

Hoshi's eyes widened. "Doctor Oberu?"

Doctor Rydnar Oberu of the KRG got to his feet and crossed to her side in a few strides. "Ensign Sato! It is good to see you. Doctor Shen Kaori can be trusted; she's been working with the Medical Underground for decades." Oberu's mouth quirked into a grim smile. "I take it your brother still believes you loyal, Kaori?"

Kaori shook her head. "Not after this, when he finds out. Rydnar, we must move again. It will only be a matter of time before Gavva tracks me here. The Starfleet ship and the Saurians have broken up Gavva's 'trade conference' and detained the ringleaders, but Gavva remains free."

Oberu nodded and replied, "Then we must move without delay." He looked over his shoulder and began barking orders to the other doctors, nurses and orderlies who occupied the cavern. They began to quietly gather up equipment and patients and move them to anti-grav sleds. Hoshi was impressed at their swift response; they were used to this kind of migration. Then another familiar voice called out from Hoshi's right and a bright smile came over her face.

"Hoshi!" Jonathan Archer clapped a hand on an orderly shoulder and murmured some comforting words. The Trianarian didn't understand them, but he could understand the warmth and reassurance in the captain's tone. Jon slowly made his way towards Hoshi; his gait was still unsteady, and his face was pale in the dim light, but he carried himself with authority.

"Are you all right?" she asked him.

"Still recovering from the stun injection they gave me, but I'm okay." He nodded at Kaori, who nodded back at him. "Phlox managed to get some medicines and equipment down here to help Doctor Oberu. I've contacted _Enterprise_; there's a stone plateau not too far from here. We can beam these people out of here and get them to Sickbay. The Saurians have been also evacuating as many of Oberu's teams as possible onto their ships and the KRG's med frigates."

Hoshi blew out a relieved sigh, then asked, "What about Malcolm and the others?"

"They're pursuing Gavva. He won't get away, Hoshi." Jon pressed his lips together and added, "Some of these people are in pretty bad shape. Gavva and his minions tortured them for information about the hidden clinics. Let's get the worst of them up to the ship first."

"Just tell me what you need me to do and I'll do it, sir."

Time seemed to blur as they hurried through the twisting caverns, floating the anti-grav sleds up steep ledges, climbing up rope ladders and crossing bridges. Hoshi sternly kept her claustrophobia under control by concentrating on the ultimate goal: getting these people to safety.

Finally, they reached the mouth of the cavern and emerged into twilight. The Trianarian sun was low on the mountains as they gathered at the edge of the plateau. Jon flipped open his communicator. "Archer to _Enterprise_."

"Tucker here, Cap'n." Hoshi smiled at the familiar Southern drawl.

"We're at the beam-out coordinates, Trip. Have Phlox and T'Pol standing by in the transporter room."

"They're already waitin' for you, Cap'n. Have you found Hoshi?"

Jon smiled at her. "She's with us. Let's get a move on, Trip, before we're detected."

"Yes, sir. Tucker to Transporter Room Two. Fletcher, lock onto the first group and beam 'em up." Minutes later, the first group of patients disappeared in a sparkly haze. Then Trip continued, "We've cleared the platform. Cap'n. Ready for the second group. Energizin'."

Hoshi shivered as a night breeze chilled her skin. She didn't know just what had alerted her, but she turned her head at movement from the cavern behind them. Reflexes took over as she launched herself at Oberu, tackling him to the ground just as lasers seared the air above them.

"Down! Down!" Jon yelled. He yanked one of the orderlies down next to him. "Trip, we're under attack! Get us out of here!"

"Trying to get a lock on you, Cap'n! Hold on!"

Hoshi looked up in time to see a large Saurian intercept a stun beam meant for Jon. To her shock, it only seemed to annoy him instead of hurt him, and he launched himself at the shooter. The Trianarian soldier didn't have a chance before the Saurian was on him.

She pushed Oberu towards the rest of the patients and watched as he disappeared within _Enterprise_'s transporter beam. Kaori and a handful of people remained; Hoshi wished she had a phase pistol, or even a few rocks...

"_Achtung, Liebchen! Dahinter!"_

Hoshi immediately dropped to the ground and Bernhard's stun shot hit the soldier directly behind her. A thin wire flew out of the man's hands and skittered across the plateau. She shuddered as she saw the weights at either end of it; it was some sort of garotte.

Finally, she felt the warm tingle of the transporter beam and a curtain of golden sparkles instead of sluggish green bands obscured her vision. She let out a sigh and thought, just before she dematerialized, _Third time's the charm. _


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't make money off 'em.**

**Notes: This is the last chapter. Gavva gets what's coming to him.**

**Thanks to everyone who's read and commented and put this story on alert. :-) I'd like to know what you thought of it, so please leave a review!**

**Rating: T**

**Pairing: R/S

* * *

**

**Ten**

"There are others ahead of us. They are armed," Visarr hissed. "They are pursuing someone."

"Hoshi and the captain," Malcolm murmured. He looked over at Bernhard and gestured for the rescue team to follow them. "How many, Constable?"

"Eight, perhaps ten. Quite a large hunting party to recapture only two people." Visarr growled deep within his throat and put a hand on the closest rock outcropping. "Many others have went by here. Trianarians and others; I smell a sweet aroma of...flowers?"

"Hoshi. It's probably her shampoo. Gardenias."

Bernhard glanced over his shoulder with a bemused expression. "And how would you know that, _Herr Kommmandant?_"

Malcolm flushed crimson, suddenly glad that the Bavarian couldn't see his face in the darkness. "It's quite distinctive, Ensign, and not a smell that would trigger my allergies."

"How considerate of her." Bernhard pretended to adjust the setting of his phase rifle, but Malcolm caught the edge of his smirk.

_I see cleaning phase rifles in your immediate future, Bernhard, _Malcolm thought with dry humor. His humor quickly vanished as they followed the trail left by the Trianarian soldiers. Whoever they were pursuing knew exactly how to evade them. Several rope ladders scaled the cavern walls, but they had been cut to prevent pursuit. Malcolm, Bernhard and Visarr were forced to go around gaping holes in the floor, since the makeshift bridges lay in smashed pieces on the rocks below.

"They were trying to buy time," Visarr said, confirming Malcolm's thoughts. "It seems that they are experts at avoiding the Trianarian authorities."

"Good to know that not all Trianarians agree with Gavva's policies."

_Bernhard nodded as he stepped over a pile of debris. "If they are helping Captain Archer and Ensign Sato, that will be reason enough for Gavva to go after them."_

The floor rose abruptly at a steep angle, following the slope of the mountain itself._ Out into the open air. _Just as the thought crossed Malcolm's mind, he heard the echo of laser fire and the whine of a transporter beam. "Come on!" he shouted and broke out into a run.

He emerged onto a steep, rocky plateau, just in time to see the first group of Trianarian doctors and patients disappear into the transporter beam. He saw Hoshi tackle Doctor Oberu to the ground and Captain Archer protect a terrified orderly with his own body. Visarr rushed forward and blocked a stun beam aimed for Archer, literally. The beam struck his thick reptilian skin, and while it didn't seriously hurt Visarr, it had to have stung him. He roared and swung his tail, upending a pair of Trianarian guards and dumping them on the hard ground.

Bernhard yelled,_ ""Achtung, Liebchen! Dahinter!"_ Hoshi immediately dropped and he fired his phase rifle at the soldier behind her. A weapon flew out of the soldier's hands and skittered out of sight. Seconds later, a transporter beam swept both Hoshi and Captain Archer away to safety.

"Thank God," Malcolm breathed. He heard the crunch of gravel behind him, spun, and blocked a knife with his phase rifle. His attacker tried to push him off balance, but he twisted out of the way, disarming the soldier as he did so. He fired a stun bolt and the man crumpled to the ground.

Visarr tore through the soldiers with claws and teeth. Malcolm had never seen someone that big move so fast, with reflexes better than himself or Bernhard. None of the Trianarians were able to counter Visarr, and soon the entire contingent lay unconscious or dying at his feet. He picked up a hapless guard and dangled him over the edge of the cliff.

"Where...is...he?" Visarr snarled. "Where is Gavva?" Malcolm noticed that Visarr hadn't bothered to address Gavva by the honorific.

"_Ne, ne...a'lie del parretia!" The man thrashed wildly in terror as he screamed in blind fear. _

Suddenly, a heavy weight slammed into Malcolm into the stone wall. He lost his grip on the phase rifle and it tumbled out of view. . His arm shot up to block Gavva's thrust of the knife towards his heart. The two grappled, trying to gain the upper hand Gavva's harsh, raspy voice screamed curses, the accent thick, but he could understand the words in Standard English.

"_You...die, Kv'ohraiy. You die, and she...mine!"_

Something within Malcolm snapped at the words. "Like _hell!_" he snarled, as he jabbed his knee into Gavva's stomach. Gavva staggered back, one hand on his stomach, the other still firmly on the knife. He screamed something in Trianarian, then launched himself at Malcolm with surprising strength.

"Lieutenant!" Bernhard shouted. He aimed his phase rifle at the combatants, but couldn't get a clear shot without hitting his superior officer. "Constable!"

Visarr threw the terrified soldier aside; the man landed on a heap of his unconscious comrades. Then the Saurian screamed, "Gavva!" and launched himself into the fray.

Unfortunately, Gavva took advantage of Visarr's rage-filled attack. He reversed the knife and threw it at at Visarr, which hit the Saurian in his lower left side. Visarr roared in pain and anger as he fell to his didn't have time to react, for Gavva immediately clamped his hands around Malcolm's neck and began to squeeze with all the panicked strength of a desperate man.

_He knows he's lost, but he doesn't care._ Malcolm knew he had to end this quickly. He broke Gavva's hold on his neck and slammed the heel of his hand into the Trianaran's jaw. Gavva staggered backwards as his foot hit a patch of gravel. As he began to slide down the slope, he pushed the Armory Officer off balance, and they both tumbled towards the steep edge of the cliff.

Bernhard cursed and and tried to grab Malcolm's arm, but he nearly ended up joining them. Visarr reached over and seized him by the collar, halting his slide. Malcolm reached out desperately and caught the corner of sharp piece of rock. The jolt of pain hit him as he jerked abruptly to a stop, a mere three meters from the edge of the cliff.

_Wrist's broken. _He gritted his teeth and tried to pull himself up, but his muscles screamed in protest. Then something pulled at his legs and he nearly lost his hold. He glanced down to see Gavva's maniacal smile. The Trianarian's grip on Malcolm was the only thing that kept him from oblivion.

"I die...you die. None...have her."

"You bloody bastard!" Malcolm kicked out, but Gavva held fast, like a spider on its web. Malcolm could feel his grip slipping, he couldn't hold on for much longer...

And just as his strength nearly gave out, more hands grabbed him. Malcolm managed to look up to see Visarr clinging to the rock with his claws, Bernhard holding on to Visarr's massive tail with one hand, and onto Malcolm with his other hand. Gavva screamed inarticulate curses as gravity pulled him closer to open space. Finally, his hands slipped and Gavva fell hundreds of meters to the river below, his body impacting against the walls of the valley, his screams echoing in the valley long after he had died.

"I cannot hold on," Visarr cried, his body trembling with the strain of supporting the weight of two men.

"Let me go, Bernhard! Save yourself and the Constable! That's an order!"

Bernhard glared down at him. "With due respect...sir...if the fall doesn't kill me, Ensign Sato will."

"Damn it all, Bernhard---!"

A warm wind came over him and his surroundings dissolved. The next thing Malcolm knew, he was sprawled on his face on a metal floor decorated with strange hexagonal shapes. He blinked as his brain tried to catch up with what just happened. _What the hell---?_

Visarr hissed and snarled somewhere above him and to the right. He couldn't understand the words, but he knew the tone that translated into, a_bout damn time you people decided to show up..._

"Where are we?" Bernhard moaned. "_Gott in Himmel_, I feel awful."

"You are on the Saurian Security Vessel _Ashiek_," Visarr replied. "You are safe with my people. Although...I apologize for the discomfort. Our transporter beams aren't configured to Human norms."

Malcolm swore mentally and closed his eyes. Now he knew exactly how Hoshi felt about the transporter and couldn't blame her one bit. He could help but feel a sense of relief. It was over. She was safe on _Enterprise_ and Gavva couldn't harm her anymore...

"We will take care of both of you, Protector, and afterward, you can contact your ship." Visarr sounded both amused and sympathetic at the same time. "I understand you have someone with whom you wish to speak, someone who is probably worried about you. I do understand."

Malcolm managed a smile. "Thank you."

* * *

Communications Officer's Personal Log:

Two weeks have gone by since the death of the late (but not widely unlamented) Prefect Gavva. The Trianarian government has appointed Doctor Shen Kaori as their temporary representative, above her protests. Kaori claims she's "a doctor, not a politician", but unlike her mother and brother, Kaori's doing a splendid job in keeping things calm. She's gathered a new Council made of representatives of all levels of Trianarian society, from the medical caste to the mining caste to the transportation caste. My communications department has been asked to set up language training for as many of the Council as possible. A common language is one of the keys to a united Trianara Prime. It will take months, years, to reverse centuries of isolation and prejudice, but it's a start.

The so-called "trade conference delegates" have been released to the custody of their home planets. I doubt many of them will be prosecuted for any crimes, though. After all, they were here at the requests of their governments to "get a piece of the pie," as Trip put it. Starfleet Intelligence will be watching them more closely after this.

_Enterprise_ will be escorting the Saurian Security vessels to their homeworld. The Saurians are interested in diplomatic relations with Earth. I think Malcolm's found a kindred spirit in Visarr; the two have been talking about defense systems and unarmed combat.

Personally, I'm feeling a lot better, though I try not to think of Gavva and his obsession. Malcolm told me that he's dead, that he can't hurt me anymore. We've talked a lot over the past couple of weeks. I've never been gladder for his steady presence, his comfort.

* * *

"The native word for it is _jes'jo, _but "brandy" comes close enough," Visarr said, as he poured the beverage into several glasses. "It's already become a commodity on Trianara."

"Not surprising," Malcolm commented mildly. "The Trianarians do have a sophisticated palate for alcohol."

Bernhard snorted as he accepted his glass. "I should introduce you to some of the brews from my homeland, Constable. I believe you would find them acceptable."

Visarr lifted his glass in a salute and answered, "I would be honored to try them, Ensign Mueller." He nodded at Captain Archer, who stood nearby with Trip and T'Pol as they talked to Visarr's superior officer. "May we have a long and fruitful bond between our two peoples."

Malcolm clinked glasses with him and Bernhard. "Hear, hear."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hoshi talking with Travis and Doctor Kaori. Although her body language seemed normal, he could tell something was bothering her. He had an idea of what it was, though Hoshi had been reluctant to tell him about it.

"Excuse me," he said. "I'll be back."

Bernhard and Visarr watched him go and Visarr made a clicking sound. Bernhard gave him a look of askance, and although Saurians didn't actually smile, Visarr's voice did.

"No, he won't."

* * *

"You must tell me more stories about your childhood, Travis," Kaori said. "Will you escort me to the dessert table and explain these 'butterfly women'?"

Travis blushed and Hoshi giggled under her hand. He shrugged, "Well...it's not exactly a tale for polite company, Kaori---"

Kaori smiled and linked her arm within his. "I am off-duty, just Kaori. Not Doctor Kaori or temporary head of the Council. You need not be 'polite' with me."

Travis's grin widened, even as Hoshi shook her head. "Go on, Travis. I'll be all right."

After the two were safely distracted by the dessert table, Hoshi decided it would be a good idea to slip out unnoticed. It _had_ been a long day, and for once, she wanted to be herself. Hoshi---not _Ni'Chara_, or the eminent teacher _Yrinnah_ or Hoshi the _Kv'oraiya. _She wanted to get away from multiple translations and adoring students for a while.

"May I walk with you?"

She smiled at the soft English accent at her shoulder. "Of course, Malcolm. I wouldn't mind the company." Hoshi slipped her arm within his, much like the time he'd accompanied her to the Council Chambers, and they walked out into the corridor. They'd spent as much time together as they could, given their respective duties. Of course, Trip and Travis teased her about it, but underneath the teasing was a sense of relief.

"Damn, Hoshi, I nearly gave myself a hernia trying to get you two together, but it looks like you've done pretty well on your own," Trip had told her bluntly. "I'm really glad for you and Malcolm, you know."

"Penny for your thoughts?"

She smiled as she touched the door control to the Observation Lounge. "Just thinking."

He followed her into the room and joined her on the couch. "What about?"

"The fact that it's nice to spend some time talking with you and not worrying about three different languages at the same time." She hadn't meant to sound ironic, but enough of her mood came through.

Malcolm frowned and reached over to put a hand on her shoulder. "What is it? You've been rather withdrawn the past few days."

She took a deep breath and shook her head. "Malcolm, I can't help but think...Gavva _used_ me, _used _my talent, to achieve his goals. He wanted my ability, not _me_ as a person. I could have done a lot of damage...like when I cracked the code for the Xindi."

He was silent for a moment, then put his other hand on her other shoulder. "Hoshi, look at me." She raised her eyes to meet his, and he continued in a soft voice, "You have a unique talent, love. It can bring people together or tear people apart. You are helping to bridge years of separation among the Trianarians. We'll need you to assist us with first contact with the Saurians. Words can do so much good."

She sighed. "I know, but it's these times that I'm reminded at how much they could destroy as well."

He nodded gravely at her. "True, but _you_ give those words their purpose. They can make people realize the truth that's been there all along." Malcolm's mouth quirked upward in a shy smile. "It did for me."

Hoshi smiled and lifted a gentle hand to his cheek. "Me too. Thanks, Malcolm." Then she leaned forward and kissed him, much like when they were at the "trade conference", full of unspoken promise.

There was no need for further discussion that night.

.


End file.
